Hermione Granger and Ministerial Decree 7391
by SJMuggle
Summary: Hermione Granger always assumed she'd one day officially become a Weasley. However, when the Ministry implements a Marriage Law she finds herself compelled to join the Weasley family sooner than she anticipated and in a way she never would have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Hermione Granger and Ministerial Decree 7391**

Disclaimer: I don't own the HP world. In my mind Fred is not dead and the epilogue did not happen. All other deviations from Rowling's world in my story are merely oversight. This is my very first story; be kind, please.

Summary: Hermione Granger always assumed she'd one day officially become a Weasley. However, when the Ministry implements a Marriage Law she finds herself compelled to join the Weasley family sooner than she anticipated and in a way she never would have imagined – as the bride of George Weasley.

**Ministerial Decree 7391**

"Hermione! Ginny! Breakfast!"

Hermione reluctantly put down the article she was reading, her concentration interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's yelling from the ground floor. She glanced at her younger companion.

"Well, Gin. Ready for another meal at the Burrow?"

"Ugh, I'm still full from last night." Ginny groaned. Mrs. Weasley was notorious for ensuring her children – both biological and assumed – were well fed. The end of the Second Wizarding War only served to exacerbate this compulsion. Even though over a year had passed since the night of Voldemort's defeat, she would still frequently insist that all her children, their significant others, and several of their friends attended large family dinners at the Burrow. The previous night had been no exception as Mrs. Weasley had prepared a bonafide feast for her family and most of the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"At least you have an excuse not to do that boring reading anymore." The red-head laughed, tossing aside her copy of the Holyhead Harpies' playbook.

"Hey! The ethical implications of animal to object transfiguration is an important conversation in magic. In fact…" Hermione cut off her lecture suddenly, noticing the glazed over look in Ginny's eyes. Only several weeks had elapsed since she had left Hogwarts upon completion of her Seventh year NEWT exams; nevertheless Hermione deeply missed the intellectual interactions and often resorted to reading published articles in magical quarterlies to fulfill her academic needs. She knew, however, that her housemates didn't share these interests. It was easy for her to forget that, though, and often found herself in the middle of long-winded rants or one-sided discussions before she would realize that no one was listening.

The two witches made their way from the bedroom they shared on the second floor of the Burrow. While there were several unused rooms at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley liked to keep the other rooms available for when the twins, Percy, Charlie, or Bill and his family would come to visit. Hermione didn't mind sharing a room with Ginny. Hermione counted Ginny amongst her dearest friends. Their friendship had only become stronger during their seventh year at Hogwarts. After the fall of Voldemort, Hermione and Ginny had returned to school the following autumn. Without Harry and Ron – both had taken Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt up in his offer to enter Auror training – Hermione and Ginny were inseparable. If she was to be completely honest, Hermione would have to admit that sometimes she even felt closer to Ginny than she did with the other two prongs of the Golden Trio, her best friend, Harry, and her boyfriend, Ron.

The long table the Weasleys ate around was already crowded when Hermione and Ginny entered the dining room. Mr. Weasley sat at one end reading the Daily Prophet. Fred and George were sitting along one side, dressed identically in their Magenta Weasley Wizard Wheezes robes. Obviously the two were stopping in for breakfast before going into the shop for the day.

Bill and Fleur were along the other side. Their newborn daughter, Victoire, sat in Fleur's lap. When Victoire had been born nine months to the day after the Order's triumph, Bill had endured endless teasing from his siblings, particularly from the twins. Fred had been especially merciless. In the midst of the battle, debris from a collapsing wall landed on him, rendering him in comatose. There had been many tense days following the battle during which doctors at St. Mungo's were unsure whether he would survive or succumb to his injuries. While Fleur's insistence that Delacours were often born premature fell on deaf ears, the circumstances surrounding how Victoire's was conceived didn't lessen the family's love for her. The twins particularly fawned all over her. Upon the first time he held her, George had declared that she already had the making of a supreme troublemaker. Something about the twinkle in her eyes apparently.

Harry and Ron completed the group. The two were sitting at the foot of the table lost in conversation with each other. Hermione and Ginny took their spots beside their respective boyfriends. Hermione glanced appreciatively at the impressive spread on the kitchen table, settling on a couple of pancakes.

"Where are the others?" Hermione addressed her question to no one in particular while pouring syrup over her cakes.

"Charlie and Erin already left for work" George answered. Erin was Charlie's fiancée. Charlie had moved back to London after the battle at Hogwarts to be closer to family and had taken a job at the Ministry of Magic. The feisty, Muggle-born Witch also had a position with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hermione didn't think that she had that much in common with the tomboyish Erin, but it was pleasant to be around another who was familiar with Muggle customs and who had read Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and some of Hermione's other favourite Muggle authors.

"Percy is at Penny's flat," George continued. Mrs. Weasley, making her way from the kitchen with a fresh batch of hash browns, let out a loud harrumph. It was no secret that Molly did not approve of her sons spending nights with their girlfriends.

"Hopefully he made her breakfast. Otherwise, I don't know what a keeper like Penny is doing with a dingus like Perce," Fred laughed, while reaching across the table to grab a scone. He added it to the substantial amount of food already on his plate.

"I don't know Fred. A lot of girls will do crazy things in order to become a Weasley." George flashed a sly grin across the table at Hermione. He returned his attention to his twin and the pair continued exchanging jokes about their order brother.

Hermione was surprised that she had to stifle a giggle at this comment. She didn't appreciate the way the twins teased Ron. They were especially ruthless towards Ron over dating Hermione, constantly chiding their younger brother that he had no business being with the smartest Witch they knew. Hermione didn't know whether to feel complemented by the high esteem the troublemakers held her in or offended by the low heed they gave her relationship. She shyly glanced at Ron who was happily tucking away French toast. He had hardly bothered to look up from his breakfast to acknowledge her arrival at the breakfast table.

Comparing her relationship to others was an exercise Hermione knew was unhealthy. Still, she couldn't help but cast a slightly jealous look at Ginny and Harry. The two were sitting so close on the table's bench that Ginny may as well have been sitting in Harry's lap. From Harry's animated hand motions, she easily deduced that they could only be talking Quidditch. Ever since Ginny had been selected as the Harpies' newest Chaser, it had been difficult to engage Harry in a conversation not related to his girlfriend's Quidditch career.

"Mione, what are you up to today?" Ginny turned from Harry to address her friend.

"Oh typical, you know." Hermione quickly responded. "Probably do some reading before I have to work at three." After completing her NEWT exams Hermione had taken a job at a Muggle café several blocks from the Leaky Caldron. Ron had cautioned that she was wasting her education and throwing away her potential at the café. He was probably right, but following the adventure of her early teen years and the war with which it culminated, Hermione had craved the degree of simplicity and normality the café offered. The different routine was also welcomed: making lattes and serving muffins to rushed Muggles couldn't be further from searching for horcruxes and trying to defeat Lord Voldemort.

"Ok, well I don't have practice until this evening. So instead of reading, let's go shopping!" Ever since Charlie had announced his engagement, Ginny had been pressuring her into going dress hunting. "Charlie's wedding is at the end of summer and if you don't look super gorgeous, I'm going to consider that a personal failure," the red-head threatened with a good-naturedly chuckle.

Hermione was about to respond, but before she could settle on a sufficient comeback, the entire table was shocked into silence by a large, unfamiliar owl swooping into the dining room. Dropping an official looking envelope on the table, the owl was left to house as swiftly as it had entered. The envelope didn't even touch the table before it was caught by Gryffindor's youngest seeker ever.

"It's from the Ministry," Harry said. "It's addressed to the Weasley household.

"That includes you, dear. Feel free to open it." Mrs. Weasley offered.

Harry quickly broke the ministerial seal. He pulled out a stack of papers. After scanning them briefly, his emerald eyes doubled in size behind his steal-rimmed glasses.

"I-I-I d-don't …" he sputtered. Harry's reaction took Hermione by surprise; she had never experienced a scenario which had rendered the Boy Who Lived (Twice) speechless.

"What is it Harry?"

"What is happening?"

"Read it out loud,"

"Harry? Is it serious?"

"What are those?"

The table erupted in confusion and questioning; no one was really certain how to gage Harry's reaction.

"Tell us what the papers say, sweetie," Mrs. Weasley encouraged.

"It's from the Ministry," Harry stated the obvious. "It says that Ministerial Decree 7391 was passed this morning." This comment was met with blank stares. Harry continued, reciting verbatim what was written on the page in his hand.

"Ministerial Decree 7391, _An Act Pertaining to Unmarried Witches and Wizards under the Purview of the United Kingdom Chapter of the Ministry of Magic, _enacted 19 June 1998 at 07:00, will here to take effect. By order of the Act all unmarried witches and wizards coming of age by or before this date will be required to marry a wizard or witch of the Ministry of Magisc's choosing. The selection process has already been completed by qualified representatives of the Department of Interpersonal Witch and Wizard Relations from the Ministry of Magic. Assigned couples are expected to enter into matrimony before the established deadline of 31 August 1999. Failure to comply with these stipulations is considered an offence and offenders will be punished appropriately."

"Oh bloody fucking hell" Mr. Weasley's mumbled, shattering the stunned silence engulfing the dining table. Later Hermione would note that Mrs. Weasley hadn't even reacted to her husband's profanity. Likely because he had merely echoed what each and every one of them was thinking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Formally Betrothed **

In the minutes following Harry's recitation of Ministerial Decree 7391 the Weasley household burst into a general melee. The twins were shouting loudly. Both, Molly and Victoire had burst into tears (although Victoire's were likely a reaction to the noise). Ron had accidently flung his arm into a vat of syrup, spilling it over the table. Arthur and Bill started energetically questioning each other over how much forewarning they had regarding the Act. Ginny had fully settled into Harry's lap and the two were holding onto each other.

Only Hermione sat in stillness and quiet. The gears in her brain were moving at a flurry however. Thoughts of civil rights, autonomy, power and the like collided in her mind.

"Surely this Act isn't tenable," She figured. "There is absolutely no way the Ministry of Magic could have such pervasive power over such a deeply personal choice." This rationalization served to keep her calm in the midst of the overall chaos occurring in the Weasley dining room. The rest of the table, however, was far from calm.

"They can't do this to Harry and me!" Ginny growled, her eyes afire.

"And Charlie's engaged," Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"Ang and I have been dating since Hogwarts," Fred stood up angrily, his face matching his flaming red hair. "If the ministry thinks they can break us up, they have a whole other problem coming to them." Hermione was slightly taken aback to see the generally cheerful twin display such a temper. It was understandable, she figured, he and Angelina were exceptionally close and had gone through a lot together. During Fred's battle induced coma, Angelina had not taken the "family members only" policy at St. Mungo's sitting down and eventually the staff thought better to just overlook her presence at Fred's bed side. From that point on, she was a constant presence in his room until he awoke and, then, instrumental in his speedy recovery. While Fred often hid his softer side with his jokes and pranks, anyone could tell after spending any time with him and Angelina that the two were deeply in love.

"Percy can be a prat, but I would hate to see his relationship with Penny destroyed," George added generously.

"There's more." Harry stated, finally entangling himself from Ginny's grasp. "There's also letters addressed to each of us. Well, the single ones, that is. I'm guessing it has our ministry approved match in it." He gulped and started passing the smaller envelopes around the table. Hermione carefully studied hers. _Miss Hermione Jean Granger _was written across the front in a somber, black calligraphy. It was sealed with the blood red official emblem of the Ministry of Magic.

Ten pale faces met each other. Hermione, Harry and the younger Weasleys were all tenderly holding their letters, knowing that the contents would change the remainders of their lives. None of the company looked particularly eager to be the first to discover their assigned spouse-to-be.

"How do you propose…"

"Youngest to oldest," Mrs. Weasley determined. "We're all going to have to find out eventually."

"Ginny, the honours," Mr. Weasley gestured to his youngest, inviting her to delve into her unknown future.

Ginny slowly inserted her want into the fold of her envelope. Before she could rip it open however, she was interrupted by the loud pop of apparating. Angelina Johnson suddenly appeared in the Weasley dining room. Circling the table, she found her way into Fred's arms. Her energetic whooping, hollering, and fist-pumping wouldn't have been out of place at a Quidditch World Cup celebration. Fred looked momentarily taken aback, but he quickly found his ground. He scoped his girlfriend up in a big bear hug.

"Well, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that means Fred drew Ang." George's grin overshadowed his face. Hermione felt a tinge of appreciation towards him: George looked unqualifiedly overjoyed for his best friend and twin, even in the face of his own uncertainty.

Angelina surfaced from her the embrace, a sheepish look on her face.

"Sorry gang, I didn't even think that you wouldn't have gotten to your letters yet. I literally took off the millisecond I found out I was paired with Fred." She apologized while rubbing the shoulder of her newly established fiancé. "Although maybe you should check your letter, just to make sure the Ministry didn't royally screw up…well, more than they completely and royally screwed up in even coming up with such a ridiculously stupid law in the first place…" Her voice trailed off while Fred deftly opened his envelope.

"Ya we did!" He triumphantly threw the letter down on the table. "Probably best we don't show that to the grandchildren." He grinned, gently kissing Angelina on the corner of her mouth.

Hermione felt her fists relax; she hadn't even realized that they were clasped. If the Ministry had saw fit to pair an established couple like Fred and Angelina surely they would honour other relationships. This comforted somewhat and she felt more confident the Ministry would pair her with Ron. They had been dating for over a year after all.

This thought, however, was cut short by another interruption; a green flash from the adjacent sitting room followed by Percy and Penny emerging through the doorway hand in hand. Evidently the two had travelled by Floo powder from Penny's place.

"Ahh…good morning, how are you two," Mrs. Weasley said, clearly not expecting her middle son and his girlfriend to show up in at the family breakfast table.

"Lovely," Percy responded, nodding to those gathered. He continued in his manner of fact pattern of speech, "I see that you have each received your telegrams from the ministry. Not an overly popular choice, this one Kingsley has made, I must say. Nevertheless, certain lengths have to be resorted to, in this continued fight against those who have unfortunately decided to side with the dark magic," he sniffed pompously.

"What are you talking about Perce?" George questioned.

"Well, surely you're all wondering why the Ministry has implemented such a law. There's those, I'm afraid, who see marriage as a way of furthering the pureblood lines of those who supported You-Know-Who. Of course, the Ministry was well ahead of that lot and created this scheme as a way to nip such behaviour in the proverbial bud. It has some less than desired ramifications for certain people, of course. Not that I mind, Penny and I were going to get married eventually. Only speeds up the process." He smiled at the curly headed blonde by his side with a tenderness Hermione had never before seen from Percy.

"Honestly!" Ginny cried, standing up forcefully. "I can't take waiting anymore!" In a swift and angry motion the fired up red-head tore open her envelope. A sharp intake of her breath followed before Ginny dissolved into a mess of laughter and tears. She flung herself into Harry's lap and started kissing him aggressively, completely oblivious to the rest of the gathering and to Harry's bewilderment.

"Ginny, Ginny Ginny," Harry murmured, awaking to what had happened.

The pair exchanged a ferocious kiss. Awkward glances were shared around the table, but even Mrs. Weasley didn't look prepared to step in to deprive the couple from their rather intimate moment. The sense of relief within the room was palpable. For a brief moment there was an expression of levity on the faces around the table; Hermione was sure that a similar look radiated from her own eyes. They were all deeply invested in seeing Harry achieve happiness; he had encountered enough strife in his childhood and early teens.

"Not a surprise, that," Percy pontificated. "Of course Minister Shacklebolt is going to tend to Harry's best interest. Very important for the Ministry to remain on the good side of our Boy Hero here. Wouldn't be surprised, in fact, if they look to appease all those who fought for the Order.."

"Shut it Perce," Fred chided good-naturedly. "Let them have their moment."

"Well, Ron." Mrs. Weasley addressed her youngest son. "I suppose you're the next youngest…if we're following that pattern still. I think it's your turn, dear."

A deep blush emerged on Ron's throat and moved up to his cheeks and ears. He gingerly picked up his envelop, clearly not fully prepared to discover his future bride-to-be. Hermione couldn't determine why he was so nervous. They had just witnessed three established couples receive the blessing of the Ministry; perhaps Percy was right and her relationship with Ron would be granted the same deference. Hermione realized that she and Ron weren't prepared for marriage, but she had no doubt that was the eventual direction in which the couple was headed. Buoyed by these thoughts, Hermione watched with a degree of serenity while her boyfriend of the past year opened his letter.

"Blimey," Ron gasped in a tone Hermione failed to interpret. Her boyfriend's blush had grown in such size that it actually met his hairline. "Lavender Brown."

Hermione gasped and she felt a fire alight in the pit of stomach. She slapped her hands to her face and then ran them haphazardly through her bushy hair. Feelings of anger, injustice, and betrayal ran through her. Her thoughts began to swirl at their quickest velocity. "Surely, this is a mistake; perhaps the Ministry sent Ron the wrong card; maybe Ron's just joshing with us all." This last idea caused her to look to her boyfriend expectedly, hoping that he'd pat her on the back while congratulating himself for his humorous deception. However, Ron's demeanor indicated no such prank. Instead, Ron was reclined in his chair, a stunned look on his face. There was something to the look Hermione didn't like. It wasn't quite glee but it was light years away from her own fury.

It was just too much. Far too much.

"This is rubbish. Abso-bloodly-lutely rubbish!" Hermione exploded uncharacteristically. All those gathered spun to gape at the red-faced brunette, clearly startled by her outburst. Such blatant displays of emotion were entirely unexpected from the normally steadfast bookworm. Hermione hastily grabbed her envelope and ripped it open with both hands. She found the letter within it. There, written in a neat and dire penmanship was her life-sentence.

"Dear Miss Hermione Jean Granger. The Department of Interpersonal Witch and Wizard Relations of the Ministry of Magic is pleased to announce that you are, of this date 19 June 1998, formally betrothed to George Fabian Weasley."

Wordless, Hermione dropped the letter and stumbled to the dining room door. Picking up her pace she found her way to the Weasley's front door ran into the morning's sunlight. Wasting no time, she apparated into nothingness.

Herrmione rematerialized in a Muggle section of London several blocks from her café. Many in the Wizarding community would have felt an uncomfortable displacement from spending the better part of a day in a Muggle village. Hermione, however, appreciated returning to the recognizable roots of her childhood. Also, she wanted to be away from those affected by the Ministry's new law; she found comfort in being outside of the Ministry's purview. In the hours before her work shift, she silently drifted through the low-key Muggle community. In a state of semi-consciousness, she meandered through a used-book shop, mindlessly running her fingers along the familiar bindings of the books. She wasted time in a local curry for lunch, quietly sitting in the corner of the restaurant, pouring over a Muggle newspaper. She found her way to a park where she watched happy looking Muggle couples guiding their children around the play-area. When she finally made to her café, Hermione realized that her rage had subsided a significant time ago; it was replaced, instead, with a dream-like fog. She was still profoundly confused; confused as to how the Ministry could get away with such tyranny and, more importantly, confused as to why Ron hadn't even reacted to the news he and Hermione hadn't been paired. Hermione realized that their impending breakup had essentially been ordained by the powers that be, something she didn't not like one bit.

"Hey Hermione," Lydia, Hermione's co-worker greeted her as she entered the shop. "You ok? Don't look yourself," the punkish girl raised an eyebrow at Hermione's disheveled hair and Ginny's faded Weird Sister's T-shirt which she was wearing.

"Oh…" Hermione hesitated, struggling to find a way to summarize the morning's events in a way a Muggle Uni student could understand. "I had a row with my boyfriend. I think we might be done." Her voice faltered and Hermione worried that she might burst into tears in the middle of the shop.

Lydia's face broke into sympathy as she ran her hands through her spiky blonde hair.

"Sweetie, spend most of your shift in the back. I can hold down the fort out here." She volunteered, smiling gently at Hermione. Hermione nodded gratefully. Consequently, her shift moved by quickly and without excitement. Afterwards, Hermione found her way back to the Burrow and was able to make it to the room she shared with Ginny without crossing paths with any of the household. She collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow. The girl who had stood up to death eaters and had destroyed a portion of Voldemort's soul had been truly overwhelmed by the events of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Confundus – Chapter 3 **

Shortly after her head hit the pillow, Hermione heard a cautious knock at the bedroom door.

"Not now, Ginny. I just want to be alone," she knew it wasn't the friendliest response, especially considering the room had belonged to her friend long before she came to share it. Hermione felt her sharpness was somewhat justified though – the thought of seeing the other girl's happiness was more than she felt prepared to stomach.

"Hermione? It's not Ginny," the door opened slightly and Angelina shyly peaked her head in the room. "Can we talk?"

The older girl's appearance surprised Hermione. Angelina didn't live at the Burrow; she had her own flat. Also, the two girls, while friendly towards each other, were not particularly close; Hermione would never expect Angelina to come to her for a heart to heart.

"I know you're probably super upset over having to marry George," Angelina sat at the foot of the bed, her legs curled beneath her. "But, you need to know that George is so fantastic. He's probably the best guy any girl could ever hope to end up with. Remember I'm dating his, well, replica and I would still probably put George at the top of the ideal partner list; he's just that great." She chuckled softly to herself, adding, "Obviously Fred's a close second."

A lump started to build in the back of Hermione's throat at Angelina's kind gesture.

"It's not really that," Hermione whispered, her voice cracking.

"What is it?" Angelina shuffled up the bed and placed a strong hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I want you to feel free to talk to me. We are going to be basically sisters pretty soon."

Something about the warmth in the older girl's touch, the trustworthiness lingering behind her eyes, or the lack of anyone else to talk to, encouraged Hermione to spill her insecurities to Angelina. She told her about how she would have expected more disappointment and anger from Ron at the Ministry's decision; how Ron's owls to her had grown increasingly short throughout her seventh year; how he had never come to visit her at Hogwarts even though Harry had done so for Ginny; how she wasn't sure if Ron ever really wanted to be with her in the first place, or if he was only dating her because he thought it was what was expected of him.

"If Ron's not willing to put up a good fight for you, he really is the prat Fred's always teasing him for being," Angelina declared, unquestioningly putting down a boy in the way only a true girlfriend can.

Hermione thanked Angelina's support by flashing a genuine smile her way. Already Hermione's felt her strength renewed; the combination of the other girl's kindness and the cathartic nature of sharing worries was just the pick-me-up she needed.

"You know what, I was supposed to hang out with Fred here tonight, but I think he can manage to entertain himself. Let's get the hell out of here," Angelina laughed and scoped the younger girl into a solid embrace. Hermione heard a loud pop and felt the familiar initial tug of apparation. The bedroom swirled into a mass of colours before disappearing entirely. Where they were going, Hermione had no clue. It didn't matter though, because, in that moment, the unknown didn't particularly scare her.

-o-O-o-

With a second pop, Hermione found herself in a sitting room she didn't recognize. She collapsed into a nearby plush sofa, still slightly disoriented from the feelings associated with apparition.

"Well, this is me," Angelina stated, settling into her wicker lounger. "Don't mind the mess."

Hermione studied her new environment. Angelina's flat was welcoming if not particularly tidy. The walls were painted a deep kelly green. They were largely covered, however, by a number of flags. Most sported the Gryffindor colours, but Hermione recognized others with the logos of the Puddlemere United Quidditch club. Several broomsticks were lined up against one side of the room. The other boasted a large fireplace, its mantle adorned with numerous pictures. The coffee table before Hermione was cluttered with books, papers, and a few wayward dishes. The room was homey though and Hermione felt completely comfortable with pulling her feet up beside her on the sofa and snuggling with one of the burgundy throw cushions.

"So what's the game plan?" The older girl questioned.

"Angelina, I honestly have no idea. You do remember that you brought me here?" Hermione chuckled.

"Right…Let's go out!" Angelina exclaimed excitedly, sitting up sharply, her face etched with a mischievous, almost Fred and George-like look.

"Ahh…I'm not really presentable for public. I look as if I've been run over," Hermione gestured at her faded t-shirt and worn jeans.

"Not a problem. Come with me." Angelina jumped to her feet and made her way to her bedroom. Hermione followed her, stopping at the doorway and leaning against its frame. Angelina was knees deep in her closet rummaging through clothes. She careless tossed garments aside until she found something which seemed to satisfy her.

"Here you go!" Angelina tossed a bright orange something in Hermione's direction. "Try this on. Washroom is on your left."

Hermione caught the article of clothing. She wasn't sure if it was a shirt or a dress and was worried that asking might offend her new friend.

"You're a bit shorter than I am, so you can totally get away with that as a dress," Angelina seemed to read Hermione's mind or at least sensed her trepidation. "As a shirt it definitely makes me look preggers, so I'm not too keen on it. Bought it for Alicia and Oliver's wedding in May and have never worn it."

"Couldn't you use transfiguration to make it longer?" Hermione questioned

"Ya, but who wants to use magic when you can just go shopping," Angelina laughed.

Hermione easily found the flat's washroom. She discarded her own casual clothes and pulled the dress over her head. Other than the fact that it only hit mid thigh, the dress was quite modest, with its cap sleeves, empire waist, and only moderately low neckline. The sheen of the fabric made the outfit a bit fancier than a standard sundress. Hermione wouldn't normally pick out something so bright, but a quick glance in the bathroom mirror encouraged her that the bold orange was actually quite complimentary to her own colouring. It made her brown eyes pop quite nicely, bringing out the gold flecks hidden within them. Her skin didn't look jaundice as she anticipated it might; instead it looked quite tanned. Generally Hermione didn't succumb to self congratulations, but tonight she decided to pay herself a compliment, deciding that the overall effect was quite striking. She returned to Angelina's room, finding her companion dressed in a white tank top and extremely tight dark jeans. With her sky-high, bright red heals, the other girl towered over Hermione almost a foot.

"Good, I knew you'd look smokin' in that," Angelina declared, handing Hermione a wine glass comically filled to the brim with white. While she wasn't much of a drinker, Hermione accepted the wine and took a timid sip.

"Thanks Ang. My hair still needs help. It's such an unruly mess."

"Oi, don't complain to me about difficult hair," Angelina playfully shook her mass of curls at Hermione. She gestured to the bed, "have a seat, I'll have you ready in no time."

Hermione perched at the end of the bed, sipping her wine while Angelina used her wand to apply a constant stream of warm air to Hermione's hair. In her time at Hogwarts, Hermione had never engaged in primping with her classmates. While Angelina attending to her locks, she started to regret that decision. Having someone fuss over her was actually quite pleasant and having Angelina's hands run through her hair generated an instant, sisterly bond with the other girl. Hermione began to understand why the rest of the Gryffindor girls were always practicing hairdos and makeovers on each other.

"Ok, look at me and shut your eyes," Angelina commanded and Hermione obeyed. After a few deft strokes, she told the younger girl to open her eyes and directed her to the mirror overhanging the vanity. The sight of her own image took Hermione by surprise. Her hair fell in straight, silky locks, halfway down her back, slightly curling at the ends. The smoky eye makeup Angelina had given her created a sultry effect. She would have expected the bright cherry lipstick to clash greatly with the tangerine dress, but instead the two managed to co-exist marvelously.

"Heads up, Mione," Angelina laughed tossing a black high healed shoe to Hermione. "Don't forget, you need some Fuck Me Pumps."

Prefect Hermione would have reacted negatively to her companion's vulgar comment, but tonight Hermione let Angelina's joke slide. Maybe it was the generous glass of wine, maybe it was the lipstick, or maybe it was the need to distract herself from the events of the day, because Hermione found herself chuckling and slipping into the heals, actually feeling a tinge of excitement about what the night held.

"Ready to go?" she inquired of Angelina, knowing full well that the question was really directed at herself.

-o-O-o-

Hermione followed Angelina into Confundus, the well-known Diagon Alley bar, stepping timidly, careful not to trip over the unaccustomed heals. Angelina, on the other hand, strode into the establishment with the same confidence that she displayed on the Quidditch pitch. The eyes of many patrons turned to take in the tall beauty. The fact that many stopped to linger on Hermione, was not lost on the younger witch. Hermione wasn't sure if it was normal for the bar to be packed or if it was particularly crowded as a result of the morning's announcement of the Ministry's new law. She wondered if many of the Wizarding community decided to turn to alcohol and revelry in order to find a way to momentary forget the news of the day.

Angelina led the pair to a vacated both. Sitting down, she caught the eye of the handsome server who was clad in the same silver robes as the rest of the staff. He made his way over to the girls to take their orders. Hermione opted for another glass of white wine while Angelina asked for draft. Flashing a naughty smile in Hermione's direction, Angelina motioned to the server and whispered something to him. He left, returning briefly with the girls' orders as well as two shot glasses filled with a reddish liquid.

"I figured we'd start with a favourite shot of mine: Red-Headed Slut," Angelina looked on the verge of giggles. "You know, in honour of our boys!"

Hermione grimaced at the reference to her brand new fiancée's playboy reputation, but she gamely picked up the shot glass and clinked it against Angelina's. Copying her friend's movement, she leaned her head back and poured the drink down her throat, impressed that her gag reflexes didn't kick in at the unfamiliar taste of hard alcohol.

"S-So…" Hermione stated hesitantly. "George probably is pretty disappointed that I'm going to put a damper on h-h-his, er, philandering," she struggled for the right word but was sorely disappointed with the one she settled one. Angelina coughed slightly and grinned at her companion with an amused affection.

"First of all, no one says that," she laughed. "Second of all, George is a lot like Fred. A lot. And I know Fred and, trust me, those two are a lot of talk. I'm sorry, I didn't think with that joke. That was unnecessary of me…"

Hermione gave her friend a slight shrug to show that no harm had been done.

"They might not appreciate me telling you this," Angelina continued. "But both Fred and George are really keen to settle down. Both are family boys. Fred is so, so caring and devoted and I'm one hundred percent positive that George will be the exact same way in a relationship."

"B-b-b-but," Hermione stuttered, nervous about voicing the opinion she was about to. "Fred's crazy about you. He loves you and thinks you're beautiful. Of course he's going to be all about you. At most, George sees me as a little sister. He's not interested in me and he's probably really resentful about being stuck with someone plain like me," her voice cracked, and she trailed off "especially when he could have any attractive girl he wants…"

"That's bull, Mione, and you know it!"Her friend quickly contented. "Clearly you're gorge, or are you not aware of all the guys currently sexing you with their eyes? And George cares deeply for you. Ya, probably more like a sister now, but that could change. Everyone knows you're brilliant. But you're also a blast. I'm having tons of fun with you tonight. I wouldn't tell you that if it wasn't true." Kindness radiated from the older witch's eyes. Her look turned mischievous and she spun in her seat to catch the attention of their server. Upon doing so, she pointed at their drinks and flashed him a two finger signal. The pair was lost in their conversation when the server returned with another order of the reddish shot. With more confidence than the previous time, Hermione raised her glass to cheers Angelina and in unison they quickly threw back the drinks. The alcohol, the company, and time to remove herself from the events of the morning made Hermione feel relaxed and happy. She was enjoying her animated discussion with Angelina about the merits of dating a Weasley twin. When her favourite Weird Sister's song came on the bar's sound system, she instinctively started moving to the music in her seat.

"Mione! Dancing time," Angelina declared excitedly. Hermione eagerly followed her new friend to the sparsely populated dance floor. The two girls found sufficient room and started moving to the music, almost losing themselves to their giggles at their attempts to sing along with the lyrics of the song. Another round of shots and the girls became more rambunctious and sporadic in their movement. Hermione was vaguely aware that they were drawing the attention of most of the dance floor and many in the bar. Normally, being the centre of attention would bother her, but feeling vaguely light headed and oddly confident, she instead laughed loudly and committed herself even more to the dance. She was certain that her smile mirrored the one that was etched into Angelina's face. She felt Angelina take her hand and spin her wildly. The room whirled madly. After several trips from the dance floor to the bar, Hermione's night started to blur into oblivion. Actual awareness of events was replaced with a sense of happiness and giddiness. Another shot and she lost all bearings on reality.

_Author's Note: I have another chapter ready which I'm planning on posting by Monday. Reviews might convince me to post sooner. Also, I'm having lots of fun writing this, but I'm not entirely sure what direction to take it in. Any suggestions would be welcomed! _


	4. Chapter 4

**Off to the Burrow – Chapter 4 **

Hermione awoke with a start: her head pounding and her mouth dry. She panicked for an instance as to her whereabouts before she recognized the heavily decorated walls of Angelina's flat and the comfort of the plush sofa. She vaguely remembered leaving the bar after it closed, stumbling back to the flat, laughing and singing with Angelina. Whimpering slightly at the fragments of memories, she tried to stand up, intent on finding Angelina. Gravity, however, had other ideas and she feebly sunk back into the couch, burrowing her head into a cushion. Her attempts at trying to make the room cease its spinning failed miserably. Her eyes sprang open when she realized that she hadn't spoken to any of the Weasley household since the previous morning. Letting out an audible groan, she was certain that her adopted family must be worried sick. The last time they had seen her she had been storming angrily out of their house without telling anyone where she was going. While she was still wallowing in guilt, Angelina's flat lit up with a bright green glow. Two identical red-heads stumbled out of the fireplace, their laughter and animated chatter filling the room.

"Ah, Hermione, we heard that we would find you here," Fred teased, flopping into the wicker lounger.

"Looking a bit wrecked, eh," George echoed Fred's jovial tone and climbed onto the couch, getting comfortable at Hermione's feet.

"You don't need to yell," Hermione moaned, sinking deeper into the sofa. "What is happening?"

"Oi, dear brother, if I'm not mistaken, our very own Prefect is right hung-over,"

"Rough night, Granger?"

"Good night, Granger?"

"We've all been there,"

"I should have known better than to trust our little one with Angie,"

"Can't handle a newbie, light weight like our sweet Hermione,"

"She is much more accustomed to those behemoth Quidditch players she hangs out with,"

"I'm what?" Angelina angrily questioned, stumbling into the living room. She tumbled into the wicker lounger and adopted the fetal position, her head in Fred's lap.

Fred gently stoked his girlfriend's disheveled hair. Hermione suddenly became very conscious that she was still in the previous night's outfit. She violently yanked at the hem, concerned that George was able to see up her disheveled dress from his vantage point.

"We brought you girls some breakfast," George handed Hermione a bag containing a scone and then passed the same to Angelina.

"Pumpkin juice for Ang. And here's some black Muggle drink for you Mione," Fred gestured to the steaming cup of coffee on the table.

"I don't know if eating's going to happen," Hermione struggled to prop herself up on one elbow and buried her face in her hands.

"This is for that. Drink this; you'll feel better," George chuckled and pulled a small glass bottle out of his pocket. It was filled with a smoky, purple potion not quite resembling a vapour nor a liquid. Sitting upright with her legs curled beneath her, Hermione accepted the container from George, conscientiously not making eye contact with him and careful not to brush his hand with her fingers. George tossed an identical bottle to Angelina. Pulling out the stopper, Hermione poured the contents into her mouth, adopting the same manner she had used to pour back shots the previous night with Angelina. Immediately the bile disappeared from her throat, her head cleared, and her world ceased its spinning.

"I didn't know you had this in you, Mione," Fred whistled admiringly. "When Ang owled me that you were going to spend the night, I have to say I was picturing something much more along the lines of girls' sleepover." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Angelina. Angelina playfully slapped Fred's face away from her. Fred laughed and pulled his girlfriend snuggly into his lap. He leaned down to nuzzle her neck with his nose. Angelina rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance at her boyfriend, but Hermione got the sense that her friend enjoyed the affection. Hermione felt a vague wash of jealousy at the couple's display of good-natured teasing. She and Ron had never developed that type of closeness and she figured the Ministry had prevented her from ever achieving such an organic intimacy with someone.

"We didn't get that crazy, right Mione," Angelina stated innocently, pulling Hermione back to reality. From her reclined position, she flashed Hermione a knowing grin and raised her arm to mock the awkward fist-pump dance moves they had found hilarious the night before. Hermione fought the urge to dissolve into giggles before she remembered what had troubled her upon waking

"I suppose that you're family is pretty furious at me for taking off like that…"

"Oh, I don't know, everyone was pretty distracted, you know."

"Charlie and Erin came over shortly after you left,"

"They're still engaged!" The Ministry mat…"

"And we knew you had to work. Mum just figured you were going to run some errands beforehand. And then Fred told everyone that you were planning on spending the night at Ang's." The fact that George had interrupted his twin just as he was about to bring up the Act wasn't lost on Hermione. She suddenly felt very awkward to be sharing a couch with her betrothed.

"We should have tagged on long with these girls, Georgie. I'm feeling our night was too-low key,"

"Only one glass of Butterbeer apiece, pathetic of us Freddie" George shook his head in mock ruefulness.

"Not like us to be out-partied by our ladies," Fred snickered.

Hermione silently cursed Fred for referencing their predicament. She knew it would have to be eventually addressed, but she wasn't ready for that moment to occur just yet. Hermione finally allowed herself to steal a glance of George. At the same moment he turned to look at her. There was a trace of uneasiness in his eyes that Hermione wouldn't have expected from one of the confident Weasley twins. She tried to force herself to say something, but couldn't formulate the proper words.

"Hey gang, we should head to the Burrow. Mum's expecting us lot for lunch. Apparently there are a couple of engagements that need celebrating." For the second time in a matter of moments Hermione thought less-than-kind Fred related thoughts.

"Mione and I are in no condition to go anywhere. If you guys don't mind sitting tight, we'll be ready in a few."

A couple quick showers later the girls were ready to go. In a sky-blue baby tee and khaki shorts borrowed from Angelina, Hermione made her way back to the living room to find the boys in a quiet, heated discussion. Their voices were low and muffled and Hermione was unable to make out what they were saying. As soon as she entered the room, the twins abruptly stopped and turned to look at her expectedly.

"Ahh, lovely. You girls look smashing. Ready to go?" Fred took Angelina's hand. Tossing some floo powder into the fire, he gently assisted his fiancé into the fireplace. Yelling "The Burrow," loudly and clearly, the couple instantly vanished.

"Well, ah, after you…" George faltered. Hermione sighed; she hated floo travel having never grown accustomed in the way those raised in the wizard community. "Or, er, if you want we could go at the same time," George offered, clearly having sensed her nervousness. Hermione nodded gratefully. Her mouth still felt dry and she was unable to formulate a sentence. Hermione silently chided herself – generally speaking up wasn't a problem for her and she never had difficulty talking to George before even though the two had never really shared a one-on-one conversation. Of course, they had also never been engaged before.

George grabbed a fistful of floo powder from the wicker basket beside Angelina's fireplace.

"Ready?" he asked, wearing a crooked grin.

"Yup," Hermione answered softly, aware of the slight creak in her voice. George sprinkled the powder into the grate before him. He turned and nodded at Hermione. Placing a gentle guiding hand on her lower back, he applied a slight pressure to lead Hermione into the fireplace ahead of him. Hermione was surprised to feel a jolt of electricity at his intimate touch. She decided to accredit it to nerves. Both staring at their feet and without speaking the two climbed into the fireplace. George yelled out their destination and, with that, Angelina's flat disappeared.

-o-O-o-

The instant Hermione climbed out of the Weasley's fireplace she was pulled into a smothering embrace by Mrs. Weasley.

"Lovely, I'm so very glad you could make it, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered gently and sweetly, apparently forgetting that Hermione lived at the Burrow. She seemed ready to overlook Hermione's earlier outburst and disappearance as she didn't bring it up or display any coolness towards the girl. Hermione felt a jolt of relief coupled with guilt; she didn't feel her behaviour warranted such compassion. "Everyone is outside having a swim before lunch. Hermione, Ginny is upstairs getting ready."

A she made her way up the Burrow's narrow staircase it occurred to Hermione that Ginny most likely hadn't joined the group because she wanted alone time with Hermione. She gulped slightly at the thought and hoped that the feisty red-head wouldn't be too angry at her roommate.

"Hey, Gin, you there?" Hermione asked cautiously, slightly opening the door of the girls' bedroom.

"Mione!" A small but fierce force engulfed her. "Look what Harry gave me!" Ginny was bouncing up and down, one arm snaked around Hermione's waist.

"What is it?" Hermione felt a small smile breaking on her face; the younger girl's excitement was contagious. Ginny waved her left hand in Hermione's face. Hermione caught it to steady the other girl's erratic gestures. "Merlin," Hermione whistled appreciatively. There on Ginny's finger was a clear and perfect, square cut diamond set in a white gold band. The band was adorned with a series of increasingly smaller diamonds leading away from the impressive centre stone.

"Apparently Harry's had it in his vault forever. It belonged to his Grandma and he was just waiting for the right time to give it to me!" Ginny squealed happily. Hermione couldn't help feeling a genuine wash of happiness for her friend. She felt a pricking at the corner her eyes. "He surprised me by showing up after practice and proposed to me in the middle of the pitch after everyone had left. Could you imagine how awful it would have been if the Ministry broke us up," Ginny stopped short, her eyes wide, evidentially clued in to the fact that this very fear of hers had happened to Hermione with her boyfriend.

"Erm.." Hermione faltered. "That's so exciting Ginny. I'm so happy for you." She stated with an honest conviction. Her voice broke though with her following comment, "I'm guessing you're family…you…are pretty furious at my antics yesterday…" She lowered her gaze, not prepared to meet the anger she was sure she'd find in Ginny's eyes.

"No one was mad at you, Mione," Ginny spoke sympathetically. "Everyone was just as upset as you were. We all think this law is sick and cruel. George felt just awful. I think he blamed himself a bit. You know, I think he felt that you were really upset to be paired up with him."

Hermione felt awful at that revelation; she hadn't even considered how her outburst would have looked to George. Surely he must have felt that her furiousness stemmed from his involvement; that her overreaction was caused by finding out she had been assigned him.

"It's not George…it's everything, you know, Ron…stuff…everything. Ugh, I just feel so bad about how I reacted."

"Don't"

The young witch grabbed her companion's hand and squeezed it gently.

"Friends?"

"Of course, and, Ginny, I don't want you to think I'm not happy for you. You're ring is gorgeous and you and Harry are amazing."

"I know. And Mione? It's going to be fine. I just know it."

The two girls shared the knowing look of comradeship, wordlessly acknowledging their sisterly bond. Hermione felt her throat tighten at the sight of Ginny's understanding eyes and caring expression. She was concerned that the tears threatening behind her own eyes would burst through. She felt a wave of relief when Ginny interrupted the moment to remind her friend that they were expected outside. Hermione started rummaging through her top drawer looking for the shorts and T-shirt she normally wore to swim in the Weasley's backyard lake.

"Here, try this," Ginny said tossing Hermione a couple of pieces of flimsy-looking, purple fabric from across the room. The younger girl had already changed into her emerald green bikini that Hermione was certain she had chosen largely because it perfectly matched the colour of Harry's eyes. Hermione wasn't sure about accepting the revealing two-piece from her friend, but she gamely tried it on, mostly so she could finally convince her roommate that she looked like rubbish in such an outfit.

"Perfect, we're ready to go!" Ginny exclaimed once Hermione had the suit on.

"Really? I don't know about this, Gin," Hermione hesitated gesturing to her body, feeling self-conscious about the way the suit hugged her curves.

"You look great! It's time to go outside. Let's get the hell out of here!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. She hastily slipped into a pair of sandals and ran outside, her towel dragging behind her. Hermione sharply pulled her breath in past her teeth; she snuggly wrapped a towel around her torso, and followed her friend down the stairs to meet the sunshine.

_Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone following my story! I know it's been mainly set-up so far, but I'm thinking it's going to start picking up soon. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A Day at the Burrow – Chapter 5 **

By the time the girls trekked across the Weasley's substantial backyard and reached the lake, the rest of the household was already there and settled. Fred and Angelina were progressively one-uping each other in a series of risky twists and dives off the tire swing Fred and George had build from an overhanging tree branch a couple years prior. Percy and Penny were floating in the middle of the lake lost in their own private conversation. Harry was on the shore where water the water came to a shallow; he was splashing water playfully with Teddy, his year-old godson. Bill, with Victoire in his arms, stood near in the ankle deep water. Sitting on the bank, Fleur watched cautiously. Lavender Brown was lying on blanket in the grass near the water, sunning herself in her retro style, white one-piece suit. Hermione's nostrils flared slightly when she noted ruefully that Ron was lounging particularly close to her on the same blanket. Ron was spiritedly chatting away, while Lavender reacted animatedly, evidently finding whatever Ron was saying particularly hilarious. In that moment, it occurred to Hermione that she and Ron hadn't even acknowledged their breakup.

"And already he's having no problem re-acquainting himself to his new girl," she thought in a huff. Given that they had spent a year together, she would have figured that he would have at least wanted some time to mourn the end of their relationship. Prior to seeing Ron so friendly with Lavender, she had tried to rationalize with herself that their relationship might yet be saved. She had wondered if there was an appeal process they could have pursue with the Ministry in order to have their matches reassessed. At the sight of Ron's ease with his ex-girlfriend and the smile ravaging his freckled face, Hermione was forced to admit that their relationship was truly broken, Ministry decree or no Ministry decree. "Perhaps it was never even strong to begin with. Maybe he's harboured a thing for Lavender this whole time," she wondered bitterly. After all, her relationship with Ron always bordered more on friendship than attraction; she reflected that they always felt more based on familiarity than desire.

"Hey girls!" George's friendly greeting abruptly awoke her from her sombre daze. Hermione was surprised to see the twin emerge from the water in front of her and Ginny. His shaggy red hair was dripping with water. Since losing an ear in a death eater attack, George had taken to wearing his hair longer, while Fred opted for a closer cropped style. It was the first time in the years that Hermione had known them that the twins differed slightly in an appearance. "Why aren't you two in the water yet?" George questioned expectedly.

"Give us time!" Ginny teased. With that comment she dropped her towel and kicked off her sandals in quick movement. Whooping loudly, she jumped, cannonball style, off the steep bank into the chest-deep water.

"Your turn, Mione," George teased, joining Hermione on the side of the lake. "Or are you still out of commission from last night?"

Hermione flashed him a furtive look.

"I'll go in when I'm good and ready," she laughed. That she mirrored George's flirty tone came as a bit of a surprise to her. She was also surprised to find herself drinking in the sight of the tall, shirtless ginger. Water droplets shone on his bare shoulders and chest, augmenting his wiry yet well-muscled physic. Hermione couldn't help but note the way his bright blue swimming trunks hung on his narrow hips. She was aware that the handsomeness of the Weasley twins was well-documented in her Hogwarts crowd, but she had never really taken the time to appreciate it for herself.

"No time like the present!" George laughed, shaking out his dripping locks. He adopted a jovial, pseudo macho stance and then charged at Hermione, his hands extended as if ready to pounce. Hermione giggled in uncharacteristically flighty manner. She turned and sprinted away from George, accidently allowing her towel to drop in the process. George's long stride enabled him to easily catch her. As he wrapped his arms snuggly around her waist, Hermione tried to ignore the way in which her bare skin tingled in the spots where it came into contact with George's large, calloused hands. George effortlessly lifted her up in his strong arms and carried her to edge of the bank. To the catcalls from Fred and Angelina, he fell sideways into the lake bringing Hermione with him, cradling her gently so she wouldn't hit the water with too much force.

"George!" Hermione sputtered playfully after she came up for air. She couldn't muster much anger though – not with the refreshing force of the water and the way George's devilish grin lit up his face. Rather than put an end to the roughhousing, she spun her arm through the water to soundly splash her tormentor. He laughed and dove beneath the surface. Grabbing Hermione's legs underwater, he quickly stood up so that he had Hermione secured across one shoulder in a solid fireman's carry. Her yells mingled with giggles, Hermione started to wildly kick her legs, acting as if she wanted to free herself from George's grasp. The awkwardness she had felt around George earlier in the day was starting to dissipate. From her upside-down vantage point she could see Ginny staring at the couple, mouth agape. She could also vaguely make out Ron on the shore. He had moved to a sitting position on his blanket and was eying her with a look she could swear contained traces of jealousy.

"You alright there, Mione?" Angelina questioned in jest. She and Fred had made their way from the deep section of the lake to join George and Hermione.

"Nothing to see here," George quipped. He dropped Hermione down his back letting her fall headfirst into the water. He then scoped her out of the water and helped to her feet, keeping one arm around her shoulder after she had been righted. Hermione wasn't entirely sure what had gotten into George; he generally wasn't that familiar and flirtatious with her. She figured that he must be putting on a show for the sake of the others, an action born out of a desire to convince them that he was not out of sorts with the pairing. Nevertheless, it would be inaccurate to say that she hadn't enjoyed his playful flirtations. The touch of George's hands had not been a negative experience.

The young wizards and witches continued to play around in the water until Mrs. Weasley called them in for the mid day meal. The morning had been one of the best for Hermione in some time. She, Fred, George and Angelina and continued their rambunctious play and occasionally Harry and Ginny came to join in while Bill and Fleur minded to Teddy. Ron and Lavender never ventured from their blanket on the lake's bank. When they finally headed in to eat, Hermione was exhausted, both from the physical games and the laughter – of course, the lack of sleep the previous night wasn't helping matters.

-o-O-o-

While the Weasley family seemed to be exercising an unacknowledged embargo on talking about the new marriage legislation, Lavender Brown had no such qualms regarding its discussion. As soon as the gang was seated around the Weasley dining room table, amply filled with a wide array of sandwiches, Lavender launched in to the gossip generated by the law.

"Ok, so it's me and Ron, Harry and Ginny…who are you paired with, Hermione?" she loudly questioned Hermione from across the table. "Ron said he didn't feel like talking about it. Don't know why you have to be like that Won-won." Hermione winced inwardly, both at Lavender's inquiry and the way in which she addressed Ron. Ron, she noted, paled slightly at Lavender's introduction of the topic.

"Erm," Hermione stammered. "Ahh..G-George."

"What about me?" George, sitting next to Hermione, reacted to the introduction of his name to the conversation and turned away from his discussion with Fred and Angelina to address Hermione and Lavender.

"You and George are a pair!" Lavender shrieked and noisily clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the entire table. "That's so fantastic! I can't believe how exciting this all is!"

"Ahh, er, I…" Hermione felt the prickle of a roomful of eyes upon her.

"It sure is!" George declared with a broad confidence. He waggled his eyebrows at Lavender and clapped a hand to Hermione's shoulder to pull her into his bare chest.

"Here, here," Fred joked, lifting his Butterbeer in celebration. Hermione couldn't read the manners of the twins. Knowing the pair as well as she did, she was certain they were simply living up to their prankster reputations. Nevertheless, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. The blush grew considerably, when she noted that Ron's sour expression and beet red ears.

"Oh this is all so fantastic," Lavender sighed. "This whole thing is just too fun; it's just so juicy."

"What a twit," thought Hermione. She glanced up at George, observing the exasperation in his eyes. He hadn't removed his arm from her shoulders though and Hermione felt a tender gratitude for his support.

"You would not believe some of the gossip I've been hearing," Lavender proclaimed, evidently unmindful of the palpable discomfort of the room. "Pavarti's been put with Draco!" She played her trump card; sure enough, this comment was met with astonished stares.

"That's awful," Hermione muttered, suddenly very grateful for the tall ginger on her left. Being forced into matrimony with a former death eater would be a waking nightmare.

"No it's not!" Lavender cried gleefully. "They've totally been hooking up at that Paris Law School they go to. If anything, Pavarti's been struggling to get Draco to commit!"

Lavender continued to loudly share the marriage-related gossip. Hermione only half listened to the giddy girl as she struggled to contain her laughter at the sight of Angelina mugging faces from across the table. Occasionally she recognized names in Lavender's constant chatter: Luna Lovegood with Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom with Hannah Abbot. Eventually Lavender seemed to tire of the particular conversation and turned instead to Ron to engage him in a constant stream of baby talk. Hermione sighed gratefully and shifted to join the discussion the twins and Angelina were having. George had removed his arm from her shoulder, but the two were still sitting close enough that their arms continually touched. Fred, she noted, was cooking up plans to have friends over for games and drinks at the flat he shared with George; plans, which she was pleased to discover included her.

"So then you and Mione can teach George and me how to be party stars like you two," Fred told his girlfriend teasingly. Angelina responded with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Mione and I are going to keep our secrets to ourselves," she chided and to which Hermione nodded in mock earnestness.

"Yup, that's definitely for us to know and you to find out." Once again she amazed herself with how flirtations she was being in George's presence. George nudged her mischievously.

"When do we get to discover this other side of you Mione? Fred and I are very curious, you know, for interest sake."

"Oi ya, strictly academic." Fred collaborated. The playful banter continued between the four friends. Hermione was swept up in the enjoyable conversation. Time with the twins, she reflected, was never dull and never devoid of laughter. Once again she realized that, given the circumstances, her outlook could be significantly worst: George was a friend, he was fun to be around, and, very importantly, he didn't support dark magic. Given Ron's sudden apparent disinterest in her and lack of sadness over their break-up, the end of that relationship started to look less and less like a negative and more like an inevitable. She still wasn't happy with the Ministry for exercising such far reaching power and she was still disappointed that they were robbing her of such an important choice. Nevertheless, in a mere twenty four hours her mood had taken a remarkable upswing.

_Author's Note: This is a Hermione/George ship. Sorry to anyone who expected otherwise. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Lunch with George – Chapter 6 **

Hermione spend the next few days osculating between work and the Burrow. Her time at the Burrow was spent pouring over old Wizard law books and re-reading the _Act Pertaining to Unmarried Witches and Wizards under the Purview of the United Kingdom Chapter of the Ministry of Magic _in an attempt to find an irreversible error in the Ministry's law. She still hoped to find a loop hole that would allow her to avoid the forced marriage. While she was feeling better about her impending nuptials, she still didn't appreciate the impingement on her autonomy and was keen on finding a way out of the scheme. To her dismay the law was airtight. She also discovered that marriage laws weren't a rare occurrence in wizard communities: Belgium had a system in place since the twenties, American witches and wizard had experience a period of forced marriage in the early 1980s, and the UK had implemented a marriage law for some time seventy odd years back to combat the flux of Squibs born as a result of too much intermarriage between pureblood families. The lack of headway didn't faze Hermione, however, and she continued to do research well into the night for three solid days.

The rest of the Burrow, on the other hand, was swept up in wedding frenzy. Ginny's bed was constantly covered in bridal magazines, fabric swatches, and notes on floral arrangements. Mrs. Weasley had set up a large calendar in her kitchen and was often found attempting to pencil in each of the six weddings in before the end of the summer. Even Ron and Harry were excitedly talking stag parties; having all their friends getting married in the same summer meant many celebrations to attend.

Over dinner, several nights after the swimming party, the family discussed when the weddings would occur. Charlie and Erin had already been planning a wedding for the end of August and were going to keep their original date. Percy and Penny, opting for a smallish ceremony, were aiming for the end of the month. Mrs. Weasley informed those gathered that Fred and Angelina were going to take the first week in July and that Ron and Lavender would have the second. Harry and Ginny had already claimed the end of July, wanting to wed on Harry's birthday.

"That leaves anytime in August for you and George, dear," Mrs. Weasley addressed Hermione.

Hermione shrugged noncommittally, grateful that George and Fred had decided to eat dinner at their own flat. She felt uncomfortable establishing a wedding date when she and George had barely acknowledged her engagement. She realized, however, that sooner or later it would be necessary for her to sit down with George and discuss their predicament.

-o-O-o-

The following morning, Hermione woke before the rest of the household, needing to be up and ready early for her opening shift at the café. Calmness greeted her as she left the Borrow, reminding her why she loved dawn. She apparated to the designated area and enjoyed the twenty minute stroll to the café. Lydia welcomed her cautiously as she entered the store. They hadn't worked together since the day of Hermione's outburst and so it was expected that the other girl would be on tenterhooks around Hermione. In overcompensation, Hermione grinned widely and shouted out a warm hello, which her coworker echoed with a smile.

The two girls fell into the silent routine of the café: serving customers, making beverages, tidying the shop. The morning passed quickly. Towards the end of her shift, Hermione took the receipts to the small, back room to ensure that they settled. While in the midst of counting, Lydia breathlessly poked her head through the doorway.

"Hermione, there's a really, really cute ginger here looking for you. Oh my God, he's so sexy. Are you two hooking up?" The tiny Muggle rapidly demanded.

"Erm…"

"Oh damn, sorry, I totally forgot about that," Lydia apologized hastily. "I just get so hot and bothered around the Gingers. My friends all give me such a hard time 'cause of that. When my flat mates at Uni found out just how convinced I am that that young Prince Harry is going to grow into a looker, they would not stop teasing me. Don't you agree though, I can just tell he's going to be fine, sometimes you just know!"

"Ahh," Hermione struggled to picture the member of the Muggle monarchy to which Lydia referred.

"Well, get out here, you don't want to keep your Ginger waiting."

Hermione jotted down her totals and removed her apron. Straightening out her clothes, she made her way to the front. A pleasant, if unanticipated, sight welcomed her: a shaggy haired Weasley twin.

"George," She exclaimed; Ron was the red-head she expected. She was impressed with how well George fit into the Muggle environment. Ron would always be noticeably skittish outside of the wizard community, often drawing unnecessary attention by loudly gawking at unrecognized Muggle items. George, on the other hand, looked cool and collected. He was appropriately attired in well-cut jeans and a dark blue button up. Other than his height, deep orange hair and striking handsomeness, there was nothing about George that anyone would find out of the ordinary. Hermione reluctantly had to agree with Lydia's assessment on his attractiveness.

"Hey, can we talk, or something when you're…free?" He asked.

"Yah, of course, I'll be done work…" Hermione checked her watch to see how much time was left in her shift.

"Now! She's done work now," Lydia excitedly volunteered. Hermione shot her a questioning glance, Lydia merely shrugged it off. "Get out of here! I'll be fine by myself 'til Mel shows up."

Hermione quickly mixed herself a cappuccino – she wanted to be alert during her time with George and was worried that her early waking time might prevent that – and silently left the café, waking side-by-side her fiancée.

-o-O-o-

The pair fell into a comfortable pace while following the familiar route to the Leaky Caldron. Hermione was relieved that the silence between them wasn't awkward. Instead, it felt familiar; the type of quiet that could only exist between those who had known each other for a considerable time.

"Do you mind if we stop in to the shop? We can grab lunch or something after that," George asked Hermione when they reached Diagon Alley. Hermione nodded her consent. The pair made their way to the Weasley twin's joke store. As usual, it was packed. Hermione marveled at how many children, teens, and even adults were in held in rapture by the Weasley products. Her heart warmed when it occurred to her that the wizard by her side's main goal in life was to bring joy to others.

"I'll be quick. I just have to take care of something in the back. Are you alright out here for a second?" George asked while guiding her past the throng of shoppers crowding around the rows of merchandise.

"Oh yah, I actually have something I'd like to pick up," Hermione blushed.

"Hermione!" George exclaimed in mock surprise. "Don't tell me that the prefect who was so keen to put a stop to the development of our products now actually wants a piece of our silly toys."

"I've never called your work silly! You know, I always found what you created to be exceptional, I just didn't approve of it being tested on unsuspecting first years."

"Yah, yah. We know you love it. Take what you want Hermione. It's on the house," George winked before disappearing into the back of the shop.

Hermione pushed her way to the side of the shop where the bright pink WonderWitch merchandise was displayed. Sifting through the love potions and daydream charms, she found what she was looking for. A number of the twin's cosmetic products were wildly popular with witches of all years, but the patented foundation the twins had charmed to match any skin colour was a favourite of Hermione's for reasons beyond the aesthetic; it made her "Mudblood" scar invisible.

Hermione glanced down at her scar remorsefully. She had recently finished her last bottle of the Weasley twin's foundation; as a result, her scar was left exposed. The vulgar insult shone from her forearm in a ghastly white, the lettering crudely etched forever into her skin. Hermione still winced whenever she caught sight of the constant reminder of how she had been tortured and brutalized for her heritage. There were nights still that she would awake in a sweat, visions of the violent, unhinged Bellatrix Lestrange hunched over her crumbled body, her wild hair in her face, hatred in her eyes, prepared to do unspeakable things to the young witch, ready to allow Fenir Greyback to have his way with her. Sometimes she still felt the cold of the Malfoy's floor on her back.

"Find what you wanted?" George friendly questioned, somehow finding his way through the crowded store to stand at her side.

"I did,"

"You know, if the WonderWitch cosmetics made all girls as pretty as you, we wouldn't be able to keep them on the shelves," George softly commented. Hermione studied his eyes for a trace of irony. Despite not finding any, she was still certain that George was speaking in jest. Surely, the popular prankster didn't find her attractive. Also, the Weasley twins already were constantly running out of WonderWitch products; Hermione had been lucky to find the last bottle of the foundation.

"It's actually really brilliant," Hermione extended her forearm into his line of vision, feeling comfortable enough with him to reveal the hateful mark. "I-I use it for this."

George's eyebrows shot up as he drew his breath in sharply.

"Who did this to you?" He questioned tenderly, concern conveyed in his angular features. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair, tousling the orange locks, before moving it to Hermione's shoulder. His hand moved down the length of Hermione's arm until it settled on the scar. He massaged the span of blemished skin. It was the first time Hermione had felt warmth on the spot since it had experienced so much pain.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," she whispered with as much strength in her voice as she could manage.

"Merlin, Hermione. I-I don't know what to say," George continued to stroke her forearm. His touch, compassion, and gentle look set Hermione's lip into a quiver. "Come here," His voice husky, he swiftly pulled her into a hug causing the rest of the store to dissolve around Hermione as she got lost in his strong embrace. She knew others had suffered so much more than she had during the war – Harry had lost his godfather, Hogwarts its headmaster, Teddy his parents – and so she had never demanded attention for her own pain. Harry and Ron never attempted to discuss it with her; likely it was an episode they were just as eager to forget. Having George acknowledge its brutality gave her a sense of relief and vindication; she finally felt prepared to voice how much she had hurt she had undergone.

"The worst part is that I'm stuck with this forever. I'll never be able to forget that there are people out there who see me as vile, that I'm to be hated," her voice quaked as she slightly loosened himself from George's grasp to meet his eyes.

"No, no. That's not it. Hermione, don't look at it like that. It's not a sign of hatred. It's a badge, to-to how strong you are, to how much you took. For the lengths you went to for all of us,"

"Of course a noted blood-traitor would say that," Hermione tried to muster a joking tone. George's kind words embarrassed her slightly. She hadn't anticipated him to be that aware of all she had done and what she had been through. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of the fact that she was in the midst of the store's many customers hugging one of its owners. "Ahh…George, maybe we should get out of people's way…" She released her grasp of his back.

"Yah, ok," he said, giving her a hasty squeeze before letting her go. "What do you figure? Let's get the hell out of here."

-o-O-o-

The pair returned to the Leaky Caldron. The place was quiet with only a handful of patrons. Tom, the bartender, indicated that they were to seat themselves and so they settled into a secluded booth towards the back. Soberness subsisted, both still mindful of what had been revealed earlier. The prior ease she had felt with George remained, but Hermione was concerned that it would quickly vanish if one of them was to bring up their situation.

"So, ah, us…eh," George faltered, evidently not sharing Hermione's reservations about introducing the topic. Hermione sighed, wishing they had started with mere pleasantries.

"I-I don't know, George," She admitted, her voice lingering on his name, her tone tender. "I-It's just, it-it's…"

"Is it Ron?" He questioned pointedly, lowing his gaze so that his compassionate eyes met hers.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, raising her hands in frustration. It relieved her to have someone finally recognize the adverse affects the Law had on her current romantic arrangements. None had seemed willing to broach the topic with her: not Ginny, Harry, and certainly not Ron.

"What's going on there?" George inquired.

"I don't know," She responded truthfully. Struggling to formulate the appropriate words she continued: "I-I really thought…I really thought we had something…something special. I don't know anymore, if he sees me as something worth fighting for." She winced; voicing the fear made her aware of how much the possibility of its being true hurt her.

"Ron's daft you know. Well, that's not true. Ron can be great. He can be quite loyal. I remember this one time" – George chuckled lightly at the memory before continuing – "when we were still tiny, Fred and I jinxed Mum's mixing bowls so that every time she turned her back on it everything in them would spill. Ron knew Fred and I were behind it, but he never told Mum. He could have told her and gotten in her good graces by tattling, but he didn't.

The story made Hermione smile, mainly because of how at ease and happy George looked while telling it. She wondered, for the first time, if the twins' fondness of mischief was based on spending time together, not necessarily from the pranks themselves. George continued talking, awaking her from her contemplations.

"Ron's always had to be second fiddle, you know," He reflected. "Fred and I have always got a lot of attention. Merlin knows Harry gets a lot of attention. Even Ginny sometimes outshines him. Of course, you're a tough shadow to live in – I don't think it's that easy for him. And Fred and I always had each other," His voice broke at the mention of his twin. Hermione was certain he was reliving those three days where Fred's survival was in question; three days when a distraught George didn't move from his twin's room. "Fred and I never really, well, we never really had room for him. That sounds awful, but it just sort of happened that way. Harry…Harry always had a lot going on of his own. It seems, I guess that, no one thinks of Ron first. And so, he has to be the one who thinks of him first. Maybe that's why he won't put up a fight for you, Mione. Maybe he's worried that if he does he might still finish second."

George leaned across the table, surprising Hermione by taking her hands in his. Hermione felt a pit solidify in her stomach. She silently cursed herself for not taking the time to consider how the whole situation affected Ron and how Ron might be dealing with their separation. George had. These were the most words he had ever exchanged with her, and in the span of their conversation he had greatly impressed her with his caring and introspection.

"Ron's daft is he's not going to fight for you…Hermione…you're worth fighting for." The conviction with which he spoke rendered Hermione speechless.

Hermione sat in silence, worried that speaking would elicit tears. Her insecurities had been slightly alleviated by George's empathy. They remained hand in hand briefly until Tom returned to their table to deliver their food and break the moment. Having their intimacy interrupted by a stranger – one only doing his job – made Hermione uncomfortable. Judging by the way George had hastily removed his hands from hers, she figured he also felt it. After Tom left, the pair exchanged uneasy stares, unsure how to return to the familiarity which they had just left.

"So…this law…us…" Hermione bravely offered poking her salad with her fork. She knew it was time the topic was approached.

"Oh right. Us." George emphasized the last word, drawing attention to how bizarre it seemed. He grinned and with an exasperated shake of his head, he flashed Hermione a raised eyebrow look, conveying an exaggerated expression of disbelief.

"We're an us!" Grasping the ridiculousness of the situation, Hermione let out a snort which led to uneasy giggles. Her mirth was obviously contagious, because George's deep, rich laugh joined the merry chimes of her giggles. As so often is the case with humorous situations, once the absurdity was acknowledged, it became impossible to ignore. Hermione and George continued laughing, until it built to the point of being uncontainable. Occasionally one would manage to stop to gasp for air, only to make eye contact with the other and renew the laughter once again. Hermione finally composed herself. Removing her glowing face from her hands, she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, while her lips strained against the smile threatening behind them. She knew that if she was to allow it, she would once again succumb to a fit of giggles. She peeked at George across the table. His face was so red that it upstaged his hair. The traces of where laughter had been still lingered in his grin and sparkling eyes. Noticing how the tears in his eyes highlighted their intense blueness, Hermione shuddered slightly when she realized that she had never seen the twin look more strikingly attractive than in that moment. The sight of his unrestrained grin caused Hermione to break into a gleeful smile.

"Sorry, in all seriousness" – George inserted several intentional, deep in and exhalations – "do you mind if I say something about this whole deal?"

Hermione raised her head in assent, beckoning him to continue.

"I think Perce might be right," George said in contemplation before hesitating to respond to Hermione's quizzical look. "Remember he said that he thought the Ministry was going to try to appease those who fought with the Order of the Phoenix?" Hermione nodded; she recalled Percy's short discourse on the subject. "Well, I think he might be right…I mean…I guess what I'm trying to say is that they probably weren't looking for a way to screw us all over."

Hermione considered George's assessment. She wasn't sure if he was telling her that he believed they were better off paired together, or if he was merely suggesting that they shouldn't be upset with the Ministry's decision-making process.

"Isn't that rather condescending of them thought? I don't think the Ministry can really claim to know better than I do about who I am supposed to date, er, marry!"

"Yah, but isn't that bureaucracy for you?" George chuckled. "Anyway, who knows, maybe they were just looking to give the perennially single Weasley a chance."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the self-deprecation of her companion's remark; she knew for a fact the red-head had no shortage of interested girls. While contemplating an appropriate, teasing come-back, she couldn't help but observe that every time she hung out with George she felt exceedingly better about the prospect of marrying him.

_Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone reading this, following the story and leaving reviews. I'm having so much fun writing it and it makes it so much more fun when I know that people are actually reading it! Also, I'm thinking I might have confused some sayings because I'm Canadian [ex: lunch? Is that a Canadian term?]. I'm blaming any potential mistakes on that. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Before Percy's Wedding **

The morning of Percy's wedding to Penny rapidly arrived and Hermione still had nothing to wear. She had browsed through several boutiques before and after work, but had been unable to find anything which she felt suited her.

"I can just wear the same dress that I wore at Bill and Fleur's wedding," She wearily told Ginny over breakfast. The younger girl had been hounding her about the dress situation for some time.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione," Her friend chided. "Everyone's already seen that dress." Hermione gulped at the realization that Ginny probably expected her to have a different outfit for each of the many weddings they were scheduled to attend that summer.

"You know, I might be able to help," Hermione and Ginny's heads shot up to acknowledge Lavender who had disengaged herself from a conversation with Ron to address the two other girls. "I have lots of dresses and I'm guessing we're about the same size. Hermione, why don't you come over to my house and have a look at some? I'm sure I have something you'll like."

"That's fantastic Lavender," Ginny gushed before Hermione had a chance to respond.

"I'd really appreciate that, Lavender," Hermione answered with a nod. She had been slightly surprised by the other girl's friendly tone, especially considering the two had never particularly gotten on. Hermione hadn't always had the kindest words for Lavender; at times in their sixth year she had been outwardly mean to her classmate. As a result, she didn't overly relish the idea of spending extended time with the girl who was now her ex's fiancée, but if Lavender couldn't find her an outfit for her, no one could.

Lavender's large room in her parents' house – Hermione had to concede that estate was probably a more appropriate term – lived up to her name. The room was painted soft purple and the upholstery matched. A hammock of stuffed animals hung in one corner and pictures of her Hogwarts friends, parents, and two older sisters covered the walls. Lavender's room was neat and well-coordinated, but the sheer number of knickknacks would have driven Hermione insane if it had been her room.

"My dress is on the bed, so you can't wear that one" Lavender indicated to a magenta number Hermione wouldn't have likely chosen laid out lovingly on her bed beside the accessories she was clearly pairing it with. "Help yourself to anything else." She led Hermione into the large walk-in closet. Without having to sift through any of the numerous hanging dresses, Lavender deftly picked out one of a shimmering midnight blue fabric, "This is the one you're going to want though" She spoke with certainty and took the dress and put it beside her own.

Hermione riffled through Lavender's closet, impressed with the size of it; Lavender clearly liked her dresses, particularly those of bright, obvious colours. Rejecting the ones with crinoline, bows, and polka dots, she tried on a couple, but nothing caught her fancy. Finally she decided to cede to Lavender's expertise and try the midnight blue one. The dress was fantastic. It was simple in the front: boasting a modest sweetheart neckline. The torso fit her body snuggly in a series of complicated folds and ruches. The skirt skimmed her hips, flaring into a gentle bias. The hem line flirted with her knees. The skirt was light enough to feel fanciful but structured enough that Hermione felt comfortable in it. The true marvel of the dress, however, was found in the back, in that it barely existed at all. The back of the dress came to a low point, just grazing the small of Hermione's back. The whole thing was held in place with tiny straps which looked easy enough to snap, leaving Hermione exposed. She had never experienced an outfit of such daring elegance or one that fit her so lovingly. How Lavender had known that this was the perfect dress for her, she didn't know, but she felt a surge of gratitude for the other girl's fashion prowess.

"Mione!" I want to see!" Hermione's trance was broken by her host's impatient shriek.

"Ok, but be nice," Hermione retorted and emerged from the closet. Lavender's approving smile told her the dress was the right choice.

"I'm never wrong," The girl stated with a slight boasting tone to her voice. Hermione groaned inwardly, knowing that Lavender might try to claim credit for the look. She figured it was a small price to pay though for feeling so stylish. "That really works for you, Hermione. You can keep it if you like." This generosity elicited a gawk from Hermione.

"Are you serious?" She squeaked, her voice resembling the pitch so frequently employed by Lavender.

"Yah, it never really felt like me. Besides, I don't feel comfortable wearing it anymore…not since…since." Her voice faltered uncharacteristically. Hermione gave her a poignant look, beckoning her to continue. Lavender turned to face the opposite direction and lifted the hem of her shirt to her shoulders, revealing her back. The girl's pale skin was ravaged by four, violently red scratches, running in parallel, diagonally down her back.

"Merlin," Hermione winced. The sight of the scars brought back the painful memories of the war and she recalled an image of Lavender collapsed on the Hogwarts battlefield, Fenir Greyback greedily hunched over her. "Lavender, I had no idea."

"It's not so bad," Lavender shrugged and pulled her shirt back down. "Sure it looks pretty gruesome. But, lots of people get a bit howl-y during full moons, right," she joked feebly.

"You know, there's-there's stuff you could use to cover that." Hermione offered, thinking of her own scars. She started to tell Lavender about the Weasley's product which would allow her to wear dresses like the midnight blue, backless number, but Lavender interrupted her.

"I don't know why, but I don't want to hide them. I know this is silly, but sometimes these scars are what I'm proudest of."

"You're what…?"

"It's like, if you had told me years ago that I would have been able to fight like that and survive this, I would have thought you were being daft. But now, it's like, I guess I just know I can do anything. I never felt particularly brave before. I guess it's nice to have a bit of reassurance that I was meant to be a Gryffindor."

"Lavender…I-I," Hermione couldn't find words to describe the respect and admiration for Lavender's courage or a way to formulate how sympathetic she was for the other girl's suffering. Hermione found herself in awe of her companion's perspective. A new light shone on Lavender. Hermione had always thought of the other girl as silly and clueless, and yet, here she had somehow acquired a wisdom of which Hermione was envious. Hermione flashed the other girl a look that she hoped conveyed understanding and gratitude.

"Hermione?" - Lavender's voice was questioning – "I know we're not…I know we've never…well, I'm sure you'd rather get ready with Ginny, or someone else, but I was wondering, do you want to hang out here and get ready for the wedding with me?"

"I'd like that Lavender." Hermione hadn't actually considered getting prepared for the wedding; she had assumed she just primp before hand while Ginny was with the rest of the bridal party. The prospect of spending the time with Lavender, however, seemed appropriate and maybe even pleasant. Another advantage, Hermione realized, was that relying on Lavender guaranteed that she would look her finest.

-o-O-o-

After returning to her street clothes, Hermione made her way down the Brown's formidable central staircase to find Lavender in the kitchen, preparing grilled cheese sandwiches for the girls' lunch. The two ate in silence, unsure how to explore the prospect of a tentative friendship.

"How come you have this?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, picking up a dog-eared copy of her favourite book: Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice. _"I never see Muggle books at Wizard houses!"

"Surely you don't think only Muggle girls can appreciate Mr. Darcy, Hermione." Lavender grinned distantly. Hermione responded with a sigh before realizing that it shouldn't surprise her that she and Lavender had a fondness for the same type of men; after all, they both fancied Ron. "And my mum's Muggle born. It's always been important to her that me and my sisters know about Muggle books and traditions and stuff." Hermione nodded; she felt the same way about her heritage.

"Well, should we get tackled on your hair?" Lavender asked, clearing away the lunch dishes and setting out the necessities for tea.

"We're not expected at the Burrow for hours," Hermione retorted glancing at her watch.

"I know! We better get a move on!" Lavender hurried Hermione out the door. She led the concerned brunette to a lavish washroom and started rummaging through shelves and drawers of beautifying products. Feeling overwhelmed, Hermione settled onto a stool as directed to do so by Lavender. From therein she zoned out while the other girl took charge. Running her hands through Hermione's bushy hair, slathering it with clear gels and hair sprays, and inserting a significant number of pins, Lavender expertly shaped Hermione's hair into a contemporary and fashionable style. The end result was impressive: her hair was styled in a series of ringlets piled onto her head. The curls were held snuggly in place by hair pins with pearl-like endings, which gave the look a mythical and nighttime feel, perfectly coinciding with the effect of the dress Hermione had chosen earlier. Several loose tendrils curled around Hermione's face, creating a delicate frame. The hairdo looked slightly precarious, but with a quick shake of her head, Hermione felt confident that she didn't have to spend the entire event worrying about the curls falling out.

"Thanks, Lav. It looks awesome," Hermione smiled.

"Yah, yah, I know." Lavender had already set to work on her own high-set, slicked back pony tail. The girls set to their makeup, both taking the time to play with various options from Lavender's wide array of eye shadow and lipstick colours. Finally, they returned to Lavender's room to change into their dresses. Clad in the midnight blue dress and a pair of Lavender's silver, high-heeled sandals, Hermione waited for the other girl to emerge in her retro-style outfit. With its full skirt and bright pink colour, Hermione was certain that her companion's dress would stand out amongst Percy and Penny's more conservative group of friends.

"You look fabulous!" Hermione exclaimed, hoping the other girl appreciated the compliment. She spoke honestly; Lavender really was beautiful in her fanciful dress.

"Likewise," Lavender flashed Hermione a grin that glowed with genuineness and kindness. "Well, shall we?"

Hermione bobbed her head, feeling excited about the prospect of seeing everyone in their finery and sharing in Percy's special day. Two girls found their way to the Brown's garish, bronze-plated walk in fire place and swiftly travelled to the Burrow to join the celebrations Hermione hoped weren't yet underway.

-o-O-o-

Emerging into the Weasley's modest living room, the first people Hermione saw upon entering were Harry and Ron. The two of them were already dressed in their dress robes. Harry was wearing a dark charcoal and Ron the simple, black robes Percy had selected for his groomsmen. Hermione felt a surge of pride when she noted that Harry had managed to tame his normally messy, black hair for the evening, although she was certain that all credit needed to go to Ginny for insuring her fiancé looked presentable.

"Hermione! There you are!" Harry sounded relieved. Hermione quickly apologized realizing she hadn't told anyone of her plans to stay at Lavender's. "I think everyone's already outside," Harry informed them while at the same time Ron excused himself to join the rest of the groomsmen. Hermione noted that Ron seemed slightly down-turned and that he failed to make eye contact with either her or Lavender. While she hadn't expected him to great her open armed, she had hoped for a friendly welcome from her former boyfriend. She wondered if Lavender felt equally put off by the cold reception, but one glance at her new pal indicated that Lavender was far too swept up in wedding excitement and it was likely that Ron's chilliness hadn't even registered with the other girl.

"Well, shall we make our way out there?" Hermione asked, trying to shrug off her Ron-related concerns. Harry grinned widely and offered an arm to each of the dolled up witches. Leaning on her best friend for support – Hermione was certain she would never grow accustom to walking in heels – the three made their way into the approaching twilight to join the festivities.

_Author's Note: Sorry for a shorter, purely filler chapter. Hopefully the next will be up soon. I'm very excited because I know how my story will end AND I've already decided on the premise for my next story which I'm looking forward to writing [it will definitely be another Hermione/George story – my very favourite pairing] _


	8. Chapter 8

**Percy and Penny's Wedding **

Hermione caught her breath at the sight of the Weasley's backyard. It looked whimsical and ethereal in a way she had never seen it. While Bill and Fleur's wedding had been all about muted elegance – no one wanted to be too showy, given the circumstances of Voldemort's return – Percy and Penny's bridal setup was pure fanciful. Knowing Percy's stuffy manner, she assumed that much of the décor could be accredited to Penny. A series of benches adorned with pale ivory ribbons were lined up in the Weasley's backyard, with an aisle running down the middle. At the front, there was a slightly raised platform, lovingly covered in white roses. A violinist and cellist played wizard traditional songs while Harry and the rest of the ushers helped the guests to their seats. What made the entire arrangement truly spectacular was the hundreds of tiny, paper lanterns levitating above the crowd, looking like brilliant stars lighting up the evening sky.

Hermione spotted Angelina sitting alone on a bench and led Lavender over to join her friend.

"Hey Angelina!" The older girl shot her back a smile. "Do you know Lavender?" Hermione introduced the new girls, but they acknowledged that they were already acquainted. The girls made small talk briefly, but the lanterns soon dimmed and the music of the strings grew louder, indicating that the formalities were about to begin.

Percy and his five brothers – each a groomsmen – found their spots on the platform in front of those in attendance. All of the Weasley brothers were dressed in dark dress robes over a dark suit. It could have looked somber and dour, but it didn't; the bright orange hair and lively smile of each helped to significantly brighten the affair. Percy looked as Hermione had never seen him. He was grinning with such abandonment, no trace of nervousness on his face, staring transfixed at the spot where his bride would soon appear. Hermione swore that tears were beginning on the corners of his eyes. Charlie, his best man, proudly clapped him on the shoulder, and Percy turned to acknowledge all his brothers. Hermione's eyes drifted along the line of Weasley men. After Charlie, Bill stood looking formal and yet dangerously handsome as always. Fred followed, grinning madly, perhaps – Hermione wondered – more so at a prank he had planned for later rather than for Percy's sake. On the other side of his twin, George stood, also wearing a wide smile.

"George!" Hermione thought, sucking air in, taken aback by just how stunningly handsome he looked. His tousled ginger hair gave him a rakish look. Combined with his twinkling eyes and overwhelming grin, he was a sight to behold. Staring at him standing beside his twin, Hermione realized that she no longer saw the two as identical copies. Not only was the hair length a difference, but there was something in George's face that was just so very inarticulately and innately George. George's bright blue eyes stood in stark difference to Fred's almost teal ones. There was also a bit of angularness to George's features that Fred's softer looks lacked. As George stood between his brothers looking tall and confident, Hermione unsuccessfully tried to remember why she had never found him attractive. She figured that she just never really took the time to look; he had always just been Ron and Ginny's troublemaking older brother. Hermione couldn't help pulling her eyes away from George to have a look at her former boyfriend. Ron looked happy and at ease. She noted the way he was smiling at the girl on her left and wondered if Lavender was a better pairing for Ron. He had always seemed rather nervous around Hermione, knowing, perhaps, that she was prepared to chastise him for any idiotic remarks he might make. Hermione hoped not. She would hate it if it turned out that Ron never felt truly comfortable in their relationship. However, when the musicians started up the wedding march, she forced such thoughts out of her mind and stood to pay full attention to the bride.

Penny's bridal party led the way down the aisle. Hermione only recognized Ginny out of the group. The pale pink dresses Penny had chosen should have clashed wildly with Ginny's stunning red hair, but her bright smile and radiance made the combination work. Penny looked gorgeous in her simple, lace gown with her blonde curls hanging in loose ringlets down her back. Witnessing the way she stared starry eyed at her soon to be husband, Hermione felt a pang she hadn't expected. All the happiness and love was a lot to take in. The defeat of Voldemort was still fresh in Hermione's memory. She thought of how the war could have had a different outcome and how, if that had happened, such events as the one she was currently witnessing would never have been able to occur. Leaving her thoughts for a moment to try to listen to Percy and Penny's vows, she was forced to return to her mental activities as the realization that in a little over a month she would be repeating the same words to George.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to exchange such a huge promise with him," She thought worriedly. It seemed to her unfair to her, George, and the vows themselves to force two people who did not feel the love and devotion the words represented to stand in front of their loved ones and speak such sacred and momentous words.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Ministry official announcing Percy and Penny as husband and wife. They kissed, rather passionately, to catcalls from the brothers. Hand in hand they waltzed down the aisle while Hermione and the rest of the attendants stood and applauded. The bridal party followed. Walking next to one of Penny's attendants, George pointed at Hermione and flashed a wink. She didn't know what he had prepared for later, but realize that she was excited to find out.

-o-O-o-

The benches were quickly moved away and someone soon transfixed the portion of the grass under the lanterns into the smooth surface of a dance floor. Percy and Penny shared a lovely, if slightly awkward, first dance to music of the strings. Since most of Percy and Penny's friends weren't keen on dancing and partying but were instead eager to be home at an early hour, the couple decided to make their grand exit soon after their shared dance. As per the Weasley tradition, they were to leave on broomstick. Hermione winced at the realization that she too would have to partake in this custom; she still felt uncomfortable with flying.

"I would like to thank you all very much for coming and bearing witness to our union. Of course, Penny and I very much appreciate it." Percy stood before the crowd and addressed them in his most pompous tone. "Accio broom!" He bellowed, trying to summon the broom which lay propped up against the platform. The broom, however, had different ideas; it danced away from Percy before swirling around him and then coming to a settle at his feet. The same thing happened several times over, each time Percy clumsily chased after the broom, his dress robes flying behind him. Finally he was able to get a hand on the broom to settle it. Hermione snuck a glance at Fred and George. As she had expected, the twins were doubled over in laughter, no doubt the cause of the unruly broom. Having managed to get a leg over the broom, Percy beckoned Penny to join him and she sat sidesaddle behind her husband.

The two shot into the air in the midst of applause and whistles; thankfully, the broom was behaved. Behind them trailed a spiral of red sparks. Once Percy and Penny were well above the crowd, the lights formed into big, block letter L. Hermione chuckled at the realization that the twins were referencing Percy's poor flying skills. The "L" indicated Percy's beginner status on the broom, copying the practice of Muggles to display such signs on cars while learning to drive. In a family of skilled Quidditch players, Percy had always stood out for his poor flying abilities. Her laughter deepened at the thought that Fred and George were also having a go at Percy by implying that he was novice at a certain task he and Penny would most likely be engaging in later in the evening. The red "L" suddenly exploded and a spectrum of colours lit up the sky above the Borrow. Fireworks started going off in a grand display Hermione knew only the Weasley twins were capable of creating. The witches and wizards gathered stood in awe, overwhelmed by the beauty and spectacle above them. As Hermione watched Percy and Penny disappear into the distance while the fireworks danced in the forefront, she wondered if Fred and George had created their scheme with love, wanting to give their older brother a phenomenal and memorable exit.

-o-O-o-

After Percy and Penny's invites said their goodbyes, the twins wasted no time in trying to rally those remaining onto the dance floor. Since, presumably, no one else wanted to dance to the sounds of the violin and cello, the twins had brought out music equipment and their friend Lee Jordan immediately claimed the roll of DJ.

"Come on Hermione!" Ginny grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the smooth dance surface, with Angelina a step ahead of them. Despite the twins' best efforts and Lee's choice of a popular song, the dance floor was essentially empty, with only Fred and George taking up space. The twins were jumping, spinning, and twisting around erratically and hilariously, not in time with the music in the least. The part dance, part gymnastics and part martial arts moves the twins were displaying set the girls into laughter and Hermione had to carefully steady herself to ensure that she did not tumble off her teetering heels from her full-body giggles at the sight of the rambunctious boys. Hermione was certain that the vacated dance floor was caused in part by everyone's intimidation at the prospect of joining the twins.

"Oi! I'm glad you've decided to come dance with us, girls!" George exclaimed with a grin when he saw that he and his brother had dance floor companions. The twins quickly hurried the girls to the centre of the surface and began dancing around them spastically. The girls laughed and added their own, significantly tamer, dance moves to the show. George grabbed Ginny and started energetically twirling her around in a mock tango. George interspersed his sister's spins with sporadic, low dips. Ginny, for her part, gamely kept up with her older brother, adding some flourishes of her own. The two siblings' dance was rather beautiful in its own way, but that likely owed more to their glowing, joyful faces, rather than any actual talent for dance. They continued to strut in their exaggerated manner until Fred stepped in to share a dance with his little sister. Unmindful of the actual music playing, Fred and Ginny started a ridiculous dance that was essentially an accumulation of the twist with some highland dance moves thrown in for good measure. Hermione wondered if they had choreographed it ahead of time or if it was just a pure, spontaneous outburst of Weasley humor.

Lee put on a crowd pleasing Weird Sisters song and came on to the dance floor. Shortly, Ron, Harry, and Lavender found their way to the dance floor to join their friends. Soon the group was made larger by other Weasley acquaintances and the remaining friends of Percy and Penny.

"Mione! Let's show them how it's done!" Angelina roared, pulling Hermione into the middle of the ring of people. Hermione chuckled at the realization that the song blaring across the Weasley's backyard was the same one she and Angelina had been so keen on dancing to the night they had gone to Confundus. Putting on an enthusiastic smile, Hermione joined the other girl in a replication of their energetic fist pumps, hip thrusts, and catwalk-like struts. In a bright, canary yellow, strapless dress, paired with a dark purple belt and her stand-by red stilettos, Angelina should have looked rather clownish; one would expect the colours to have clashed shamelessly. On Angelina, however, the combination was a resounding success. Her natural joie de vivre overwhelmed the bright colours, rather than the other way around. With fluidity, Angelina fully committed to the goofy movements, somehow managing to make them look graceful. The sight of her friend's joy encouraged Hermione to give her own moves a little extra effort and she added a couple pirouettes, attempting to keep pace with the other girl. Ginny joined them and the girls danced around each other, occasionally taking one another by the hand to incorporate spins into their dance. Hermione rose up and down on the balls of her feet, swaying her hips and twisting her body. As she spun the midnight blue fabric of her dress twirled around her and Hermione hoped the skirt provided enough coverage so that she wasn't being exhibitionist. Every now and then she'd stop her movement to catch her breath, add a fist pump, or belt out a familiar lyric. She was aware that all eyes were on her and her girlfriends, but she tried not to be overly mindful of that and instead focused on the fun she was having with her two future sister-in-laws. The twins set about to raiding the bar, likely at the realization that they were no longer at the centre of attention, probably hoping to add to the evening by assisting in upping everyone's liquor consumption.

"Girls…care for a drink?" Fred questioned with a laugh, handing Hermione an open bottle of champagne. Hermione looked quizzically at the bottle in her hand, but shook off her inhibitions and took a hearty drink straight from its opening. She passed it to a waiting Angelina who took an even larger chug and handed the champagne to the next eager participant. The champagne made its way around the dancers, returning to Hermione several times.

"Mind if I cut in?" Fred asked Hermione as Lee started playing a slow song over the system. Hermione nodded and the tall red-head whisked his girlfriend off to an empty spot on the dance floor where they started swaying, pressed startlingly close together. Hermione looked to Ginny to see if she wanted to sit for a moment or visit the bar, but Harry had bravely ventured to the centre of the floor and had scoped his betrothed into a twirl leaving Hermione on her own. From her vantage point on the middle of the dance floor Hermione took a moment to observe her loved ones. Harry and Ginny danced awkwardly but lovingly together, Harry visibly mouthing the song's count. Ron and Lavender were engaged in a rather inappropriate looking dance that involved much hip thrusting and hand roaming. Hermione anticipated that Mrs. Weasley was going to step in shortly to put a stop to her youngest son's suggestive moves. A quick glance to her left, however, indicated that such intervention was unlikely; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing in an embrace on the edge of the dance floor, stepping slightly in time with the music while staring lovingly at each other like newlyweds might. Hermione sighed happily at the sight of her unofficially adopted parents, momentarily forgetting that she was standing alone.

"Care for a go, Mione?" A rich voice spoke softly into her ear from behind her. She twirled around on her heels to find herself staring into a broad chest. Looking up, she met George's sparkling eyes. He had long since lost his dark cloak and jacket, leaving him standing before her in his muted blue shirt and tie. His tie had been loosened – presumably by his energetic dance – and hung casually around his neck. That, combined with his slightly messy, shaggy red hair and crooked grin, gave him a look of perfectly disheveled confidence.

"I'd love that," Hermione whispered. She felt a flush awaken on her cheeks as George took her by the hand. He guided her into a swift twirl and then settled her in front of him, placing his available hand on her waist while retaining his clasp of the other. Hermione was unsure of what to do with her unoccupied hand. She let it float purposelessly for a moment before finding a spot on George's firm shoulder where it was able to rest comfortably. George expertly led her amongst the dancing couples, rhythmically and smoothly keeping pace with the music. Hermione chuckled. "Despite all early signs to the contrary, I do believe you're a rather fabulous dancer, George Weasley," She teased her partner.

"Well, Fred and I always made sure to practice with each other," He joked, pretending to ignore Hermione's mocked disbelief. "Apparently the ladies are quite impressed by a bloke who can move," he winked and sent her into a spin followed by a startlingly low dip. Hermione felt precarious for a moment, her head dangerously close to hitting the floor, but the feeling the firm embrace holding her steady allowed any such concerns to disappear. He swept her back upright to standing and it didn't escape Hermione that he held her even tighter than he had previously.

"You boys keep telling yourselves that," Hermione teased, fighting the urge to get lost in his deep, blue eyes.

"And you keep pretending that you're not loving this," George chuckled tenderly, his voice rough. George's arms encircled her waist as he held her snuggly pressed against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, but quickly removed it with a laugh.

"Who stuck your head full of these blasted pins?" He exclaimed flabbergasted.

"Lavender did my hair. Lovely isn't it?"

"Silly git," He joked. "One of these could take an eye out."

Hermione laughed feeling surprisingly comfortable. She could feel George's hands exploring her exposed back, sending a thrilling rush down her spine every time he touched a new spot. His hands came to settle on the very base of the small of her back, practically tucked into the fabric of her dress. Hermione hesitated briefly but boldly moved her hands behind George's head and linked them around his neck.

There was something about the night – maybe it was the lights, maybe it was the champagne, probably it was the company – that caused Hermione to feel disturbingly faint. If it wasn't for George's secure embrace she was certain that she would have collapsed. As it was, her knees were quaking and her world was spinning madly. Hermione tightened her grip around George's neck, pulling herself closer to his broad chest.

"For security only," She mentally rationalized. "Can't be falling over now."

With George's muscular arms steadily and warmly wrapped around her, Hermione rested her head beneath his collar bone and gently swayed her hips into him. Every time their bodies came into contact, she could feel George's hands tense up against the naked skin of her back, certain he was enjoying the same surges she was. His raspy breathing was audible and Hermione could feel his heart pulsating against her ear. Oblivious to anything or anyone surrounding them, Hermione raised her stare, desperate to find George's eyes. He was already intensely peering down at her, prepared to make unblinking eye contact. While the music played softly in the background, Hermione shyly bit her lip and locked eyes with George. He moved a hand to the back of her head and lowered his face towards hers until their noses almost touched.

"Oh my stars," an exciting thought hit Hermione with a jolt. "I'm about to kiss George Weasley.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Ginny Rationale **

Hermione maintained the upward angle of her chin and ran her tongue expectantly along her lips. It confused her profoundly, but she eagerly anticipated the prospect of kissing George and was certain it was about to happen. Her lips tingled at the prospect of meeting his and her tongue ached for the taste of George's. She blinked softly, hoping to indicate her willingness. Preserving his snug grasp of her body, George continued to lower his face towards her. In a move that infuriated Hermione, he bypassed her lips and moved his mouth next to her ear, allowing their cheeks to brush delicately.

"You look gorgeous tonight Hermione. I feel awful for not telling you that yet," He murmured into her ear in his raspy, sexy voice. His completely unwanted complement rushed Hermione back to reality as her fantasy completely plummeted away.

"Thank you. And likewise I might add," She told him, tersely pulling her body off of his. Her hands were removed from around his neck and she crossed them in front of her chest, closing herself off from him.

"Perhaps we should find a drink?" Her voice was brisk; her question completely destroyed any potential moment. As if to further signal that their intimacy had ended, the slow song finished and Lee started one with a more rapid beat.

Hermione felt profoundly stupid. "Honestly, what are you thinking, you git?" She chastised herself not entirely kindly, "fully prepared to snog George Weasley in the midst of all his family. Like some sort of silly school girl."

"I'd like that," George replied gently to Hermione's suggestion of having a drink.

He offered her the crook of his arm, which Hermione begrudgingly accepted, feeling discontent at having such an insignificant portion of their bodies touching. As the pair made their way off the dance floor towards the direction of the bar, Hermione vainly tried to read George's demeanor. She had no idea if the passion felt in their embrace had been one-sided, but feverishly hoped that it was not. George slipped his arm around Hermione's waist as they strolled over the grass towards the bar.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," She thought wistfully as she walked along side George. "Do not let yourself get caught up in his charms." She knew the flirtations of the Weasley twins was legendary and didn't want to be yet another girl to fall for George's notorious allure. Another side of her conscious joined the mental conversation: "He definitely wanted to kiss you, though. He wouldn't have held you like that if he hadn't." Her logical side replied, "No, he just likes making you fall for him. If he wanted to kiss you, he would have kissed you," and with that, rational Hermione recovered control and quieted fanciful Hermione.

The pair approached the bar and George struck up a conversation with the bartender.

"What would you like, love?" George directed his question towards Hermione, motioning towards the bar.

"Er, um. A glass of white wine would be lovely," She replied, forced to leave her quieting thoughts.

"I'd love the same," George replied although his comment was more intended for the bartender.

They found a vacated bench and Hermione sat down tentatively, conscientiously insuring that at least several inches separated her and George. They both seemed intent on their sips of wine.

"It sure has been a beautiful evening, hasn't it," George commented.

"Yes George, just lovely," Hermione replied, her tone short. As soon as she spoke, she desperately hoped that George didn't sense her frustration. It was simply hard to be content with small talk when she wanted to be snogging.

The two sat in silence; a pervasive uncomfortable mood lingered around them. Hermione felt split in two; part of her wanted so badly to reach over and grab hold of George and yet another part of her wanted to get up and leave, putting the moment they had shared well in the past. Hermione looked out over her friends, who were spinning, laughing, and gradually drifting into intoxication. With purpose, she upturned the last few mouthfuls of wine and swallowed them with a gulp.

"I think I'm going to join Angelina and Ginny out there," Hermione declared, deciding that the leaving option was the safer choice. She stood up to find her way towards the whirling bright yellow and pale pink outlines of her girlfriends.

"Hermione." Hermione turned meet George's soft request with anticipation in her eyes. "Ahh…have fun," George faltered.

Hermione smiled quickly in recognition of his comment, but swiftly turned to begin gingerly picking her way across the grass to meet her friends. She didn't dare turn around to see if George was following her.

-o-O-o-

Hermione danced well into the night with her friends. Angelina and Ginny had welcomed her excitedly when she had walked on to the floor and the three girls set to dancing, Hermione trying her best to get swept away in the music and movement. She wanted to forget what had previously happened: how she had been so willing to allow George access to her lips, how she had so desired the taste of his. She forced herself to stop dwelling on the eagerness in his eyes and the gentle passion of his touch. Instead, she gave full attention to her dance and her friends and found that the infectious joy of the other two girls managed to carry her through the night. When they were joined on the dance floor by Fred and George, Hermione did her best to maintain a distance between them and to always keep one of her girlfriends between them. After Fred procured another bottle of champagne, the awkwardness subsided slightly and the night settled into an overwhelming giddiness. The twins took turns spinning the girls around, giving Hermione a couple more opportunities to enjoy the feeling of George's hand in hers. To her disappointment, a chance to recreate the dance from earlier never appeared as a visibly intoxicated Lee insisted on only playing upbeat tunes.

With midnight long behind them, the friends made their way back to the Burrow where they could find their rooms or travel by floo back to respective houses. In her bare feet with Lavender's sandals slung around her wrist, Hermione couldn't help feeling satisfied as she made her way along the dewy grass. Despite her better judgment, she was forced to stifle laughter at the sight of George half assisting, half carrying a very drunk Fred across the lawn.

"Lovely evening, lovely Percy, lovely, lovely…Georgie, why's the ground moving?" Hermione could hear Fred babbling mostly incoherently several steps ahead of her. A soft giggle echoed behind her.

"It really isn't much of a party without Fred, isn't it," Angelina chuckled and fell into step with Hermione. Hermione felt a quick flash of pain at the older girl's wistful comment, knowing all too well that Angelina was referring to what could have been had Fred's stint in St. Mungo's ended in fatality.

"No, it's not," Hermione told her poignantly, wrapping her arm around her friend's waist. Angelina hooked her arm over Hermione's shoulder and pulled the younger girl closer. Together the two girls strolled across the grass until they reached the Burrow. Hermione felt more content, pleased at being able to share the moment with the other girl.

Once in the Burrow, goodbyes were exchanged as Fred, George, Angelina, Lee and Lavender took turns using floo travel to their respective places. Harry and Ron disappeared to their rooms and Hermione and Ginny made their way up the stairs. Hermione claimed first dibs on the washroom and underwent her nighttime routine, her head spinning slightly from the champagne consumption. Pulling on her flannel pajama pants and Ron's old, faded orange Chudley Cannons shirt, she returned to her bedroom.

"Hermione, we need to talk," Ginny informed her from her perched position on Hermione's bed, still clad in her bridesmaids' dress and her hair still styled from the wedding. Hermione jolted with a start, interrupted from her task of lovingly putting away the blue dress. She wondered briefly if Ginny had been sitting there, awaiting her return, the whole time she was in the washroom.

"Ginny! You scared me. I didn't expect to you to be there."

"In my own room?" The younger girl questioned incredulously.

"Well, not on my bed, I suppose." Hermione contemplated rationally. She sensed that the other girl had something serious to discuss so without questioning she came to join her friend on the bed. Sitting with her legs crossed, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it into her chest and held it snuggly. "What's up, Gin? What do you want to talk about?" She asked sympathetically, worried about what might be concerning her roommate.

"What's going on with you and my brother?" Ginny's question was direct. It was not in Ginny's character to tiptoe around matters she felt were important.

"Brother?" Questioned Hermione, wondering which brother her friend was considering.

"George, silly," Ginny huffed as though it should have been perfectly obvious.

"George?"

"Yes, George. You and George. You looked as if you were about to have a go on the dance floor," The younger girl asserted.

"Have a go?" Hermione question, certain she was not going to like her friend's response.

"Yes. Have a go. You know. Sexually," Ginny retorted in her straightforward manner, emphasizing the last word for effect. "Like you were going to have sex right there on the dance floor," She drove home her point.

"Ahh…Ginny…that is your brother you're talking about," Hermione's voice faltered, clearly uncomfortable with the topic the red-head was apparently keen on introducing.

"I know! But it's also you and you're my best friend, so I'm just going to have to push through the unpleasantness of it all, aren't I. Let's just push through the unpleasant?" The comment touched Hermione; she had never heard the other girl refer to her as her best friend.

"It was clear to anyone there tonight that there is something going on with you and George, and I want to find out what's going on from you." Ginny continued, casting a pointed look towards Hermione.

"I honestly don't know, Ginny," Hermione told her in relief; it was necessary for her to finally discuss everything that was happening with George. Without warning, words started to tumble out of her mouth, until she was babbling without direction: "Ginny, I-I didn't mean to have feelings for him…but there's just…just…something. I don't know what it is, but…I-I think, I think I'm falling for him." She finished the thought with finality; saying the words out loud only served to solidify their truth. "I'm really falling for him," Hermione whispered, mentally weighing the idea, knowing full well that it was far more directed at herself than her companion.

"Well that's great! You like George. You'll marry George. It's brilliant." Somehow Ginny's easygoing tone managed to make the situation seem perfectly simple.

"It's not that straightforward, Gin," Hermione countered.

"No? What's so difficult?"

"Well you know…"

"No, I don't. You like George! It's perfect!"

"Yes. But Ginny! It's actually very complicated. He's your brother!" Hermione voiced her concern. Another thought exploded from her: "He's Ron's brother!" – She paused to consider the matter further – "He's my fiancé….he's making me lose my mind," She lamely concluded. "It's just so-so bloody complicated."

"No Hermione. You're making it complicated. You're over-thinking it. You know I love you, but you have a terrible habit to interpret things in the most confusing way possible."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do."

"Well…" Hermione did have to concede that point to Ginny, but she did so unwillingly. "There is a problem though" – She continued running her hands aggressively through her bushy hair – "You're overlooking a very important detail, Gin."

"And that is?"

"Him!" Hermione exclaimed in a raspy voice which threatened to break on the simple pronoun. She turned her face away from Ginny so that the other girl wouldn't be able to spot the tears beginning to form.

"Hermione?" With one word Ginny encouraged her to continue.

"What if he doesn't fancy me?" Hermione's voice was tentative almost as if she was concerned that introducing the idea would guarantee it as reality.

"Oh, Mione!" Ginny said caringly, sounding almost identically to her mother. "Is that's what's bothering you?"

Hermione nodded helplessly and continued to spew her worries: "I thought he was going to kiss me and he didn't. I thought for one second that he might really fancy me, but now I don't think he does and I just feel so daft." Upon leaving her mouth, the comments sounded silly, but Hermione didn't care because they also felt real.

Ginny crawled up the bed in order to secure her friend in a firm embrace. Hermione allowed her tears to fall freely. She felt ashamed, as if such displays should be beneath her, but the other girl's arms were comforting and the crying felt cathartic. After a couple minutes and with several hiccups, she managed to pull her sobs into check and lessen them into whimpers.

"Thanks Ginny. I really needed that," Hermione sighed.

"Any time, you know that." Ginny told her with a force of certainty, whipping away a few lingering tears of her own. "Hermione, try not to worry about things with George. I know for sure that he's not out there trying to play you around. Give it time. I know that's probably not what you want to hear, but I've never before seen George loose his head for a girl and I think that's what I'm seeing now."

"You don't think he's playing me?" Hermione asked with her tone saturated in hope.

"I know he's not. Yes, George likes attention from girls. Actually he and Fred like any sort of attention. But he's never been a dick about it." Ginny laughed following her comment, but her voice was sincere. The love she felt for her older brother was apparent and she was clearly very invested in seeing him act in good character.

"You're the best, Gin."

"You are. And if you're worried that he's not snogging you, maybe you should just snog him." Mirth glowed from the girl's eyes and she gave Hermione a playful nudge.

"We are still talking about your brother."

Ginny got up from the bed with a noncommittal shrug, but a teasing look playing on her face. She left the room, presumably to get ready for bed. Hermione contemplated what her friend told her for awhile, but soon tired of trying to sort through everything and drifted into slumber.

_Author's Note: Thanks again for all the follows and comments. I feel quite bad that I didn't give any fun, fluffy stuff this chapter, but not to worry, it will be coming. Delayed gratification. Also, I forgot to give due credit for the "L" prank from last chapter. I got that idea from my most favourite ginger ever, Prince Harry, who put a big L on the car Wils and Kate left the Royal Wedding in. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Fights and Fantasy **

Morning arrived all too soon and Hermione awoke, attempting to shake off any lingering concerns and sustained fogginess from the previous night. Her head was still slightly ringing from the wedding festivities as she crawled out of bed to prepare herself for her mid-day shift. Pulling herself together, she silently went through her morning regiment, conscientious to not wake Ginny who was still sleeping off the fun in which she had engaged. Without sound, she slipped out of the Burrow, cursing Fred's ability to charm her into sharing so many bottles of champagne.

A cappuccino and a half later, Hermione felt sufficiently ready to greet customers. She pulled her apron over her head and slunk out of the back room, hoping that her neat plait and cheery smile gave the impression that she was fully capable of performing her tasks.

"Good to go, Hermione?" Lydia's question was teasing, decked in amusement but also mixed with understanding. Hermione nodded, feeling an intense gratitude for the other girl's consideration and for Sunday's lack of rushed Muggles, impatient for their on-the-way-to-work caffeine, yet fully prepared to insist that their drinks were mixed to perfection. To Hermione's relief, her shift ran smoothly into the afternoon. Even in her less than stellar state she was still able to create beverages and serve the Muggles who were looking to enjoy their lazy Sunday mornings reading or visiting in a quiet café.

Towards the end of her shift, however, things became startling unpleasant.

Hermione heard the chimes on the door and glanced up from behind the counter, mentally assuming her best friendly yet professional demeanor to greet the particular customer. A slight gasp passed her lips at the sight of a red-faced Ron charging into the café followed closely by Harry who looked bewildered but was visibly trying to calm down his friend.

"Harry! Ron! What are you two doing here? What's going on?" Hermione exclaimed, sounding neither friendly nor professional.

"Hermione, we need to talk," Ron announced abruptly.

"Ron, settle down," Harry commanded. He tried to place a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder, but the red-head merely shrugged it off and continued his march into the café.

A horrified Hermione scanned the shop, nervous about the scene the upset Ron was creating. The costumers, however, seemed completely unaware of the distraction in their midst, as all were still focused on their food, newspapers, or conversations. Hermione cast a grateful look at Harry, communicating her relief at the timely silencing spell for which she realized he was responsible. Knowing that she had no reason to keep her voice contained, she lashed out at Ron, surprising even herself with the venom in her tone:

"What is going on Ron?"

"What is going on me? What is going on with you?" Ron replied in a mocking tone.

"Honestly, Ronald. I don't know what you're talking about or why you are here."

"Why are you trying to get off on my brother?" Ron demanded in an angry voice.

"Wh-what are you going on about?" Hermione's infuriation rose to match Ron's.

"George. You don't think I notice the way you're looking at him. With all that lust," His retort was steeped in bitterness.

"Oh sod off, Ron. You were probably so happy to be paired with Lavender because now she'll finally put out." Ron's response to her harsh accusation was nothing but silence so she continued her rant: "Besides, what makes you think you can come here, to my work, to tell me how I can or cannot feel about George. My fiancée! You have no right; none!

"I was your boyfriend,"

"That's right. You were my boyfriend," Hermione could feel the heat rising to her forehead. Ron's interruption had hurt and confused her. "You're not anymore." She noticed that two Muggles had started to open the shop's glass door, but abruptly turned and left, confused looks dancing on their faces. Hermione inwardly thanked Harry again for providing the charms that hid her outburst from the public.

"Only because of this stupid Ministry of Magic thing…" Ron's comment frustrated Hermione further; even with Harry's silencing charm she didn't like him discussing magic in her shop, not when her reputation was at stake.

"We were broken well before Ministerial Decree 7391, Ron. And you know that." Hermione's voice sounded sure despite her uncertainties.

"Th-that's not true…" Ron's faltered, the statement lacking conviction.

"No Ron, we were over. It's fine. It happens. But we were long over." Hermione hated saying the words; it disturbed her to think that she might be hurting Ron, but it was a relief to finally be able to voice that which she knew was true.

Ron hesitated briefly; he was clearly unsure how to respond to the finality of Hermione's assertion. After blinking several times at Hermione, he turned to look at Harry who had been standing by the entire time clearly uncomfortable. His gaze returned to Hermione.

"Fine, we're done," Ron eventually admitted.

"Ron, you have to understand. Think about how we didn't keep in contact when I was at Hogwarts. We didn't write. We didn't visit. Did you even miss me?" The plea sounded pathetic, Hermione reflected, but it was something she needed to ask.

"I-I just always assumed it would be me and you." Ron bypassed her question.

"I know,"

"I guess we just weren't meant to be, Hermione."

"Ron, I think we'll find one day that it's for the best," Hermione did all she could to convey love in her statement; Ron was still one of her best friends even if that was all that he was.

"I-I suppose," Ron answered, his voice tired. "Come on Harry, let's just get the hell out of here," He continued wearily.

"Yah, sure mate, we'll get going," Harry told his friend. Harry glanced at Hermione and looked at her with caring in his green eyes. His look managed to express sympathy, understanding and ask for forgiveness for leaving. Breaking his stare, Harry turned to leave the store with Ron.

"Goodbye Harry; Goodbye Ron," Hermione called to their retreating backs, desperate to ease the hostility. She didn't want them to leave on a sour note.

Ron turned back around and gave Hermione a smile that was a mix of fondness and understanding.

"Bye, Mione," He responded. His voice was gentle.

With that, the two wizards left the Muggle shop. As soon as their images faded, the store seemed to come alive, Harry's silencing charm broken. Hermione sighed, determined not to break down, and returned to her tasks.

-o-O-o-

Hermione drifted through the remainder of her shift, her argument with Ron playing heavily on her mind throughout. It had been painful, to say the least, but freeing. She knew that the conversation had been long overdue. Their relationship was no longer in a state of confused limbo; instead she was officially broken up with Ron. Ron: one of her best friends, someone with whom she had gone through so much, someone she thought she would go through much more. She begged fervently with an unknown that her previous encounter with Ron would not be their last. Maintaining a friendship with him was essential; he was not someone she was willing to give up on entirely.

Exhausted, Hermione returned to the Burrow after her shift. She stumbled up the stairs to her room, prepared to take a long nap to try to sleep away the day's earlier unpleasantness. Her plans were derailed at the sight of her small, grey owl tapping at the window. Hermione groaned audibly, concerned about how long he had been there pestering at the emptiness to let him in the room.

"Ok, Pip. Come on in boy," She spoke tenderly to her owl, cracking open the window slightly to allow the tiny ball of fluff to enter. The bird fluttered into the room and dropped a letter in Hermione's hand. Never much one for human interaction, Pip eagerly accepted a treat and swooped out to window and into the distance. Hermione deftly opened the parchment in her hand and quickly scanned the large, bold printing,

"Hermione, Can you come over to the shop around closing? I have a surprise for you. Wear something comfortable, George."

"What is all this about?" Hermione spoke aloud to no one but herself. It was all so much to process: her argument with Ron, her lingering confusing from the previous night's interaction with George, the remaining frustration towards the Ministry. A quick look at her watch told her that she still had several hours until George would be expecting her. Knowing that she needed to clear her head of all its fogginess, she decided to walk the distance into Diagon Alley. Slipping out of her work shirt, she pulled a soft, baby blue sweater over her head and slid on a pair of well-worn jeans. To best complete the walk she had ahead of her, she dug a pair of comfortable trainers out of her closet. After re-doing her braid, she was out the door, ready to discover what George had in store for her.

-o-O-o-

The walk from the Burrow to the Leaky Caldron was a long trek, but it was necessary. The time alone in the sun, the fresh air, and exercise proved to be therapeutic. Her endorphins kicked in and began to buoy her spirits. By the time Hermione was taping the back wall of the Leaky Caldron with her wand in the familiar pattern, her mind had lost its murkiness and she felt invigorated and refreshed, prepared to meet whatever George had to offer. With confidence, she strode into Diagon Alley, stopping occasionally to peruse shops or to chat with well-wishers. Even though a year had elapsed since the defeat of Voldemart, it was still not unusual for Hermione to be approached by witches and wizards who wanted to thank her for her role in dark magic's downfall. It was a sharp distinction to go from the cafe where she was The-Girl-Who-Serves-Coffee to the wizard world where people knew her as The-Girl-Who-Assisted-The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Finally, she found her way to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes. The sounds of bangs, whirls, and laughter reached her before the shop actually came into sight. Entering the store, she smiled instinctively. The Weasley twins never failed to bring joy with their unique brand of entertainment, as evidenced by the many grinning faces that populated the store. The sight of an almost life-sized hologram of Harry zipping around near the ceiling of the shop on his broom elicited giggles from Hermione. The image Harry was clad in traditional Quidditch garb in the bright Magenta of the twins joke shop. He was shouting out warm welcomes to the awed patrons.

"I can't believe you're profiting off your friendship with Harry," Hermione told an approaching Fred in mock disbelief.

"Don't worry your head over that, my favourite little dancing queen." Fred replied, greeting Hermione with a warm hug. He was clearly in his element in the shop as he made rounds to personally welcome customers, looking calm yet cocky in the bright robes.

"Welcome to Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" Fake Harry shouted from above their heads.

"Harry gave us permission for that" – Fred gestured above to the image of Harry who was now doing loop-de-loops on his broom – "In fact, he even lent us his voice. George and I couldn't quite capture his dulcet tones."

"Speaking of, where is that brother of yours," Hermione asked.

"And here I thought you were coming to see me" – Fred feigned an expression of sadness – "He's in the back. I'll be out here if you want visit with the handsomest Weasley." Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes while Fred pointed in the direction of the door to the back room.

"Thank you for visiting Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Expelliarmus!" Fake Harry hollered, dipping and rising on his broom, while Hermione made her way through the purple door leading to the twin's work space. She entered the spacious workshop and gasped at the wonders it offered. The room was chaotic yet neat; there was clearly an order to the mess. It was filled with various test tubes, bottles and caldrons. Some of the caldrons were clearly in use, as a mix of coloured smoke puffed out of some, while others vibrated in place, straining against their contents. The counters were covered in fabrics, feathers, and other materials the twins needed for their creations. Gurgling, hissing, snapping, and ringing sounds filled the room. Hermione found it amusing that the self-proclaimed non-academic Weasley twins had created a potions, charms, or transfigurations nerd's ultimate fantasy room. While most would prefer to be on the store's floor, enjoying the finished creations, Hermione immediately fell in love with the place where the products were invented. She knew she could happily spend hours in this room, exploring the process the Weasley's went through to complete their goods.

"Hey George," Hermione called out, finally noticing the tall red-head hunched over a large caldron in the midst of the room's amusements. George's shaggy hair was haphazard and his work space was cluttered with a range of potion's ingredients. At Hermione's greeting he climbed off his stool, stretched his arms out and rolled his head from side to side, relieving the tension that had obviously build up from leaning over his work. Removing the protective goggles and arms-length gloves he approached Hermione and acknowledged her with an awkwardly quick hug.

"What are you working on?" Hermione asked keen to break the silence but also out of genuine curiosity.

"I'm working on an upgrade to the daydream charms" – George continued at the sight of Hermione's interested gaze – "Right now we have a problem. If you take one, you'll continue daydreaming through anything. We need to come up with a way that makes it possible to daydream in class but to wake up immediately if your professor calls on you. We're getting too many complaints from customers that their professors are on to them."

"Hmm," Hermione scanned his workbench, noticing a piece of parchment covered in messy scribbles. "Might I have a look?" The irony was not lost on Hermione that she was about to assist George in making it easy for students to not pay attention to lectures, but her love of experimentation and interest in the science outweighed her prefect tendencies. Hermione studied George's notes for some time, making some markings and calculations of her own with her brain functions operating at top speed.

"Any thoughts," George asked once Hermione had paused for some time.

"What if you added knotgrass and lessened the amount of starthistle?" Hermione wondered out loud.

"That's a thought." George riffled through one of the many cupboards, locating the ingredient to which Hermione had referred. The pair added ingredients, played with ratios, and mixed the substance. Occasionally one would break the silence to make a suggestion or take notes on the parchment. While they were in the midst of experimenting, Fred stuck his head through the door to inform his twin that the store was closed and that he was heading to their shared flat above the shop. George's head jerked to the ornate clock on the wall.

"I had no idea we were working for so long," He exclaimed in shock.

"Are you two going to come up for dinner?" Fred questioned the pair. George looked to Hermione for her queue.

"I'd rather stay and work," She offered.

"Yah, if you don't mind, we'll stay here for a bit. I think we're getting close on this,"

"Ok" – Fred ginned – "Guess it will just be me and Angie." Fred hung his magenta robe on a nearby hook and practically skipped out of the room while the other two returned to their positions hunched over the bubbling caldron. After several additions, George gave the caldron three quick raps with his wand. The mixture swirled and bubbled before turning a frothy pink that Hermione thought resembled strawberry ice cream. She regretfully considered how she was unable to create anything that looked so appetizing for the café patrons.

"Hmm…this might be what we're after," George carefully measured a teaspoon of the concoction into a smaller container. They watched as the liquid solidified into a jelly, candy-like substance.

"Now what," Hermione asked staring tentatively at the cubed mixture they had created.

"Well, you can either be test subject or experiment observer. As newbie, it's your choice," George grinned during his response.

Feeling brave, Hermione gamely picked up the sweet.

"Sure there's not an unsuspecting first year we can experiment on?" She joked. "Should I just swallow this whole thing?" Hermione asked, turning the cube around in her fingers.

"Ahh, I don't know how strong it's going to be, so a smaller bite might be smart. Although, I don't mind trying it if you're nervous."

Hermione shook her head. Mustering up her Gryffindor courage, she took a small nibble. It was juicy, sweet, and did indeed taste slightly of strawberries. Within seconds, she drifted into her subconscious.

-o-O-o-

"Hermione, Hermione," George's gentle voice tore her away from her glorious haze as she slowly reconciled with reality.

"Hi," She said softly, still overwhelmed by the wondrous feelings from which she had emerged.

George grinned at her inebriated-like demeanor.

"How you feeling, Mione?"

"Really, really, really, good," She mumbled in a manner out of character from her normal, articulate self.

"I can tell," George playfully ruffled Hermione's hair, messing up her carefully constructed plaid.

"Hmm…and how long did you feel out of it, Mione?" He asked, spinning his quill expectantly, prepared to take notes on her answer.

"No more than a couple seconds," She said. "Why? How long was I actually gone?" She inquired while George jotted some notes.

"Really! I waited about twenty minutes before trying to wake you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Not sure actually. Do you think you'd be able to describe what it was like?"

"Ahh" – Hermione struggled to formulate words to capture what the experience had been like, still not fully connected with the actual world – "well, as I said it felt really short. And it wasn't anything tangible. No real images or anything I can actually remember. It was more like an amazing feeling," She paused so George could catch up with his writing. "It-it was like so glorious. There were colours. Think of what it's like at dawn, that's what it was like. Lots of smells. Like fresh parchment, old books, strawberries. I think there was music…It was…just so fantastic," She concluded airily, knowing that words couldn't adequately describe the trip.

"But it was a good experience?" George looked up over his notes.

"It was amazing," She replied distractedly with a fixed, distant smile and starry eyes lighting up her features.

"Hmm…I think we're on the right track, but maybe we need to adjust the proportions. I think it might be too strong," George put down his parchment of notes and grinned at Hermione, clearly finding her dazed state entertaining.

"No. It's perfect like this. I love it so much. It's so brilliant George," Her response was soft and dreamy.

"Ok, sweetie, that's great, but I think it's time we head out. Do you think you can walk alright?" He asked kindly.

Hermione gave her legs a quick shake. They felt wobbly but secure enough to stand on. However, hopping off the stool indicated otherwise as Hermione quickly swooned on her unsteady base. Fortunately George was near and ready; he caught Hermione swiftly and wrapped a strong arm around her, holding her to him.

"Ready to go?" He teased, continuing to prop up her lilting body.

"Lead the way," She grinned faintly. "Let's go."

Snuggly attached to George, the two slowly glided out of the shop. George recited the necessary security charms for the store and the pair clumsily started the climb up the stairs to the twins' flat.

_Author's Note: You guys, thanks so much for your kind comments! It means so much and makes the writing experience so much more enjoyable. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Hanging On**

George helped Hermione up the stairs to his flat while she giggled distantly, clearly still enjoying the persisting aftereffects of the daydream charm.

"Come on you," George teased, bearing most of Hermione's weight while assisting her up the steps. They managed to conquer the flight of stairs and were finally at the twins' front door.

"Alohomora," George tapped the door with his wand while articulating the unlocking incantation. He opened the door and guided Hermione into the flat. Hermione had only been to the twin's place several times and her stays there had been brief. She liked the twins' flat though; it suited her friends perfectly. The walls and furnishings were bright and warm; much was decorated in the twins' favourite colours, magenta and orange. A rug incorporating the two shades adorned the hardwood floor and orange and magenta throw cushions covered the inviting-looking, plush white sofa. Tea lights danced around the perimeter, providing light to the room. Hermione slunk to the large sofa and sank into it, lying face down with her limbs splayed outwards.

"Fred! Angelina! We're here," George shouted into the seemingly-empty flat. Grinning at the prostrate Hermione, he nudged her over so he could join her on the sofa. He perched on the edge of the couch by Hermione's waist. Begrudgingly she rolled onto her side to create room for George, lying in a fetal position with her body snaked around his. "Looks like Fred and Angelina aren't here," He spoke while tenderly rubbing her shoulder.

"Oi, what are you two doing here?" A rumpled looking Fred abruptly emerged from the door presumably leading from his bedroom, wearing low slung jeans without a shirt. He joined the pair in the sitting area, claiming the large recliner. Moments later, he was joined on the chair by Angelina. Angelina's curly, black hair was sticking out in various directions. She was clad in only an oversized, bright green Weasley jumper. While the recliner was clearly intended for just one person, the couple managed to fit in together quite comfortably and neither seemed about to complain about the snugness of the seating arrangement. Both Fred and Angelina were quite red faced and they wore matching sheepish expressions.

"You two seem to be sharing an outfit," George laughed.

"We were, er, moving furniture," Angelina lamely offered as way of justification for their disheveled state. Hermione found her friend's coyness particularly amusing and burst into a fit of giggles.

"That would explain how you've lost your pants, right Ang?" She teased. The other girl tried to cast Hermione a look indicating that she was not amused and playfully tossed an orange cushion at her friend, hitting the back of the couch just above Hermione's head. Angelina's sparkling eyes and wide grin, however, revealed that she was far from frustrated with her younger companion.

"And I assume there's a perfectly innocent explanation for why Hermione's so out of it," She retorted in jest.

"Er, Hermione had a slight overdose of the daydream charm," George answered, enjoying the humor of the situation – "At least it looks like it's doing what it's supposed to." Fred responded to his twin's observation by sitting up taller, clearly interested in the progress of the charms.

"So, you two had some luck with the daydream charms?" Fred asked excitedly.

"Yah, but clearly it's too strong," Responded his twin.

"No, it's perfect, I love it." Hermione mumbled happily, her head practically buried between couch cushions.

"That's pretty obvious, sweetie," George continued to massage Hermione's shoulder while grinning down at his work partner fondly. With her line of sight directed into the sofa, Fred and Angelina's furtive knowing glance went undetected by Hermione. George continued, gushing: "Hermione was brilliant, Fred. We never would have gotten it right without her. I didn't even think about cutting down on starthistle, but she realized right away that we couldn't rely on it. All we have to do is water down the proportions and we should be gold."

"That's fantastic. And here I just thought the only advantage of you two together would be a better pub quiz team. Hey, Mione, maybe we could name the daydream charm after you, let kids know you're responsible for their daydreams" Fred joked in obvious reference to how Hermione would disapprove of helping students ignore their lectures. "Or better yet," – Fred continued with a laugh – "Maybe we could have a picture of you on the packaging. 'Think of Hermione while you're daydreaming in class.' That's how we'll advertise them," He grinned mischievously at Hermione, who had managed to prop herself upright, her dream-like state beginning to vanish.

"You most certainly will do nothing of the sort, Fred-rick-son." – The end of her comment drifted away – "What is Fred short for anyways?"

"Fred. It's short for Fred." He replied, clearing having enjoyed teasing the dazed brunette.

"Hey, Mione, do you think you're ready to get going?" George asked. Hermione sat fully upright and nodded, her head was completely cleared of its earlier fog. "Brilliant," George responded to Hermione's indication that she was capable of maintaining her composure. "Be right back," He jumped up from the couch and made his way through another door, emerging shortly caring a small basket and, to Hermione's dismay, a sleek broom. "Well, shall we?"

Hermione climbed off the couch and accepted George's arm. The pair merrily called goodbyes to Fred and Angelina as they made their way out of the flat.

"Have fun!" Fred winked as they left.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Angelina's assumed innocent tone echoed after Hermione as she walked out the door with George. Hermione grabbed a firm hold of George's arm with both hands and he apparated them to the place he had in mind for his surprise.

-o-O-o-

Hermione was confused when the pair rematerialized in the middle of a playground. Hermione recognized the swing set and merry-go-round from the times her parents had taken her to similar places when she was a child.

"A Muggle play area?" She questioned, incredulous as to why George had brought her there.

"Not the play area," – George pointed to a large, grassy, open area which bordered the playground – "That's what we need." He reached in his pocket for his want and cast spells Hermione easily recognized as shielding charms used to prevent Muggles from observing what was happening in the field. George lifted the broom in his hand, "I assume you know why I brought you here."

"Yes," Hermione groaned. "I'm not much one for flying."

"Don't worry, I'll be with you. It'll be perfectly safe. I, ah, thought it would be best for us to be prepared. Ah, everyone's going to expect us to leave the wedding on one of these. Er, our wedding."

"Ugh, I figured as much,"

"We don't have to start quite yet. I brought us food." George wandered over to the edge of the field. He pulled out a large blanket from his basket and spread it out on the lawn. Hermione joined him on the blanket, enjoying the feeling of sitting in the grass. It was not quite sundown and the summer's day was still warm. As George started to pull food out of the basket, Hermione realized quickly that he must have charmed it in the same way she had her beaded bag to make it fit much more than appearance would indicate. George had brought a veritable feast; cheeses, breads, jams, fruits and cookies were laid onto the blanket.

"Angelina tells me this is a favourite of yours," He joked pulling a bottle of white wine out of his basket; the bottle was noticeably larger than its carrier.

"Ah, George, if you're taking me flying, we're not going to be drinking that first."

"Ok, we'll save that for later," George smirked and returned the wine to the basket. The pair fell into quiet conversation while enjoying the picnic George had provided. They mainly discussed Weasley products, something Hermione found fascinating. She smiled while George animatedly went into detail on the problems he and Fred had perfecting the Whiz-Bangs; the red-head's love for his work was obvious, something Hermione couldn't help but appreciate.

"So you don't care much for flying?" George abruptly changed the topic of conversation.

"Er, no. I guess I never got used to it. I still think that brooms are meant for sweeping,"

"Sweeping?"

"Yah, it's how Muggles clean their floors."

"No way" – George whistled in disbelief – "I can't imagine why someone would take a perfectly good broom and use it for cleaning." He absentmindedly played with his beloved broom in his hands, nonchalantly tossing it back and forth. "That must be bizarre for you, to know what it's like for Muggles and then see what it's like with magic," He contemplated.

"Yah, I guess it's rather strange."

"Do you ever miss it? The Muggle world that is."

"Kind of" – Hermione reflected on his question before continuing – "I suppose that's one reason I like the café so much, gets me in touch with my Muggleness." Ever since the defeat of Voldemort, she had felt an increasing tug to the Muggle world. She recalled how she had travelled to Australia the summer before her seventh year in an attempt to locate her parents. Finding them had not been a problem; they had set up a small, but thriving dental practice in Melbourne. The Australian sun had obviously agreed with them. They no longer were the frazzled, workaholics she had known. Instead, they seemed relaxed. She had dropped into their clinic for a teeth cleaning, cursing herself the entire time for putting herself in such close proximity to the people who did not know they were her parents. In the end, she had left without revealing her identity or re-modifying their memories. She told herself that she hadn't wanted to rip them away from their newfound happiness, but really she didn't want to face their disappointment and disbelief when they found out the way in which their daughter had used magic on them, even if it had been motivated by their best interests. Revisiting Muggle habits was the only thing Hermione had to maintain any ties to her parents.

George's next question shook her out of her trance: "So, you think you're ready for this," He asked with a flip of his broom.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Hermione shrugged, trying to feel brave; after all, if she could handle trolls, giants, Yule Balls, dark wizards, and oral NEWT exams, surely she could master flying. She and George hastily tidied away the remains of their dinner and George rolled up the blanket and stowed it in the basket.

"Ok, so I'm going to steady it and then you can sit behind me," George told her, levitating his broom several feet off the ground. He confidently sat in place on the broom with the assuredness that comes from doing something one's whole life. Once he was balanced, he beckoned to Hermione to join him. Hermione cautiously grabbed both his shoulders and tested her weight on the broom. After she felt comfortable it would be able to hold both her and George, she let herself sink deeper into the broom, tentatively removing her feet off the ground.

"You'll probably want to hold on quite tightly," George turned his head to meet Hermione's gaze, a gleam of enjoyment in his eyes. Hermione nodded resolutely and moved her hands to George's waist. She hugged him snuggly and shimmied up the broom until her body was pressed against George's torso. George was sitting lightly and at ease on the broom. Hermione was surprised at how relaxed his body felt against hers; she was rigid with tension.

"Here we go. Hang on!" George shouted and kicked his feet against the ground to send the broom shooting upwards. Hermione squealed as they thrust into the air, her stomach remaining on the ground. She and George ascended rapidly, swiftly cutting through the wind. Hermione clamped her eyes tight and grasped onto George's middle tighter. She hoped he wasn't as conscientious of her breasts pressed against his back as she was. Eventually they began to level and Hermione worked up the courage to take of glimpse of their surroundings. Looking down, she gasped at the realization of how high up they were; the playground beneath them looked miniature. She buried her face into the back of George's muscular shoulder, maintaining only a sliver of sight line in her peripheral. As they continued to glide thought the air, Hermione began to feel more at ease, despite the precariousness of a small broom carrying two people. Maintaining her firm grasp around George's waist, she removed her head from his back and allowed both eyes to open.

"You ok?" George called back to her.

"Yah, I'm doing fine. It's actually really beautiful," She yelled into his ear. It was. The sky was lit up in the colours of sunset; purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows swirled around them while the sun, a bright, fiery globe, sank in the distance. The ride was not as horrifying as she had been anticipating. Instead, there was something exciting and liberating about zipping through the air. Hermione took several deep breaths; the air felt fresher at the high altitude. Her hair was mostly loose from the braid and it flew about her head. The wind rushed past her, creating a ringing in her ears. Her adrenaline soared.

"Hey, get ready for this," George exclaimed, an impish look dancing on his face. He kicked the broom to face downwards and sped towards the ground, pulling up abruptly before they neared the grass. He set the broom into a whirl and whooped joyously, lifting his arms into the air, holding on with only his knees. The broom whipped around as if on a pendulum a Hermione wasn't sure if George was controlling it any longer. A sharp blast of terror hit her and she felt certain that they were going to crash horribly. Fearfully, she removed a hand from George's waist and dug her wand out of her pocket.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" She yelled forcefully. George, Hermione, and the broom came to a halting stop, suspended several meters off the ground. Hermione struggled to catch her breath and willed her heart to cease its pounding. After finally regaining her composure, she lessened her concentration on the spell and let her and George float to the ground where they landed with soft thuds, collapsed close together.

"G-George Weasley. What the hell were you thinking?" She sputtered angrily. Testing the strength of her limbs, she bounced up to a seated position and glared at the prankster. George, lying on his back propped up slightly on his elbows, looked up. His grin slowly shifted from mischievous to sheepish.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I thought it would be a good laugh. And it's a really simple Quidditch maneuver. I've done it hundreds of times." He apologized, evidently aware that his move had upset his companion.

"It wasn't funny." Hermione spoke in a huff. She reached over and grabbed a fistful of George's grey T-shirt. "I was so scared."

"Oh Mione, I feel like such a git." George cursed his actions while pushing himself up until he was fully upright, sitting on the grass with his legs crossed. "It might not make you feel better, but I had control the whole time. We were in no danger of falling. And if we were, you were clearly prepared." He said with a bashful smile while he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"It doesn't,"

"Come here," George told his companion and reached for the furious brunette, pulling her by her waist and hoisting her into his lap. "I'm so sorry, I just wasn't thinking."

"You most certainly were not." Hermione snapped, but her anger had considerably waned. She felt safe on the ground and secure in George's arms. One of his arms was wrapped protectively around her waist while his other hand ran the distance up and down her thigh, stroking over her jeans from knee to hip. She liked the way she fit snuggly and comfortably into the crook created by his crossed legs.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you," George's look penetrated her eyes, his expression caring. His hand left her thigh; he brought it to her face to push aside the curly tendrils that had escaped her messy plait. "That's better," He murmured. "I can see you now."

Hermione simultaneously grinned and bit her bottom lip. His foolishness forgiven, she tilted her chin in anticipation as George continued to brush the remaining loose curls behind her ear. Running his rough thumb over her lips, he continued the movement of his hand until it came to rest at the back of Hermione's head. Nervousness, excitement, and eagerness competed for the forefront of her emotions. She moved her arms behind George's neck. He replied by cupping Hermione's face in his strong, calloused hands. George lifted her face while lowering his head until their foreheads touched. Pausing slightly to take a lingering look at George, Hermione finally completed the distance. Their lips met softly. Once they found each other, the intensity began to heat up. Hermione's neck prickled as her tongue sought entry into George's mouth. It was freely given. The sensation of his firm tongue against hers awakened a buried desire within her and caused the dreamy daze which she had experienced earlier in the day to come rushing back. Swept up in the passion, Hermione found herself adjusting her legs so that she was straddling George, kneeling on the grass while he maintained his cross-legged position. The move was completed quickly, without once breaking the kiss. Her back arched as he grabbed fistfuls of her soft sweater to forcefully pull her against him, lifting her up slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen. George's mouth explored hers, occasionally leaving her lips to kiss her chin, nose, eyelids, temples, cheeks.

"Oh sweet Merlin, Hermione," George sighed, temporarily removing his mouth from hers. His eyes were starry and sweat glistened from his forehead. Hermione could hear his panting breath, which she recognized as matching her own. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"From before Percy's wedding?" Hermione asked, wanting to discover if her assumption from that previous day had been correct.

"Long before that. So much longer than that. So long." His voice was hoarse with longing. Hermione immediately noticed the desire in his look; it mirrored what she felt.

"But why didn't…we could have…" She faltered in a raspy tone. George chuckled softly in response to her confusion.

"Hermione, if you knew what I wanted to do to you, you'd know I wouldn't want to do it in front of my family."

"Oh…right," Hermione inwardly laughed at her cluelessness. Of all the complicated explanations she had created for why George hadn't kissed her then, the simple fact of the presence of friends and family had not been one of them. Hermione maintained her gaze, studying his angular features, continuing to notice things – the placement of a freckle, a laugh line, a slight scar under his eyebrow – that made him more attractive. Her hands found his tousled hair and explored his shaggy locks. Carefully she fingered the ridged wound where his ear had once been. For some reason, the testament to his sacrifice and bravery only made her want him more.

"You're just so bloody gorgeous," George breathed.

"Don't talk George." The command wasn't harsh but it was forceful. Her mind felt fogged by her passions, but it also possessed clarity; she knew being in the grass, with George, acting on their attraction, was exactly what she wanted. Hermione knotted her hands into George's long-enough hair and pulled his face towards hers. Expertly she re-found his mouth and gently nibbled his bottom lip. He quickly engulfed her lips, roaming her tingling mouth, alternating between aggressive and tender. Holding her snugly, the red head carefully shifted his weight, rotating their positions until Hermione came to be horizontal, her sweaty back pressed against the cool dampness of the grass. She tentatively hooked one leg around George's. George cradled her gently, propping her head slightly so his lips could continue to meet hers. His eagerness to take things further was obvious. George pushed aside her soft jumper, revealing Hermione's stomach to the cool air. His fingers brushed against her exposed skin, sending shivers to the places he covered. He broke the kiss and locked eyes with Hermione. Both were breathing hard. Hermione wondered if her expression contained the same levels of lust as his did.

"George, I-I think we maybe should slow down," She spoke huskily. Halting things frustrated her, but she was starting to feel intimidated by the passion in George's stare, or perhaps the unexpected passion in her own body.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean…I didn't think…" George hastily replied. Hermione felt a pang of guilt at her companion's embarrassment, knowing that she was just as responsible for how things had escalated as he was.

"No, it's alright," Hermione sat up and straightened her sweater. "I just think it's best if we calm things down a bit." George nodded to indicate an agreement Hermione doubted he actually felt.

"Do you want me to take you back to the Burrow?" He asked.

"Yah, I'd like that," Hermione smiled gratefully. The smile turned into giggles at the realization of how they must look. George's grey T-shirt was noticeably wrinkled and damp in spots from the grass. His hair was well past windswept. She didn't imagine that she looked any more put together. "Ahh…we should probably clean up a bit. I don't want your mum to disapprove of me."

George winced at the mention of his mum in the context, but he smiled at the brunette's observation. "Well, we were also flying. I suppose that could account for this," He laughed, gesturing at his rumbled clothes.

The pair got to their feet and quickly brushed themselves off. George picked up the discarded broom and basket. He embraced Hermione and kissed her softly. She returned the embrace and the kiss. In an instance and with a loud cracking sound, they were gone.

_Author's Note: Thanks a bunch for reading! And remember, kind reviews bring lots of happiness. That is all. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Novi Habeo Foveo **

The next morning Hermione lazily opened her eyes. Her smile greeted the early sun drifting in through the bedroom window. The previous night seemed like a distant fantasy, but the slight rawness lingering on her lips told her that it was all very real. She hazily rolled over in bed, her mind returning to the night before: how she had appeared on the Weasley's doorstep, firmly engulfed in George's arms, the way he had tenderly kissed her goodnight, how she had floated up to bed and sunk into a dreamless slumber. Hermione sighed happily and stretched her arms upwards to welcome the morning.

"Someone came in late last night." Ginny, perched on her own bed, grinned at her roommate playfully, her tongue peeking slightly out from between her teeth.

"Have you been sitting there watching me this entire time?" Hermione self-consciously pulled her covers to her neck; her friend's interruption had been unexpected and had come during rather personal contemplation.

"No, yours sighs woke me," Ginny teased. "Where'd those come from anyways?"

"Ahh, nowhere,"

"Yah, ok," The red-head laughed, clearly unconvinced. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Not sure yet. I'm not working, probably will just do some reading."

"Oh fun" – Ginny responded with an ironic eye-roll – "We're going shopping. You need a freaking wedding dress!"

"Do you have yours yet?" Hermione asked, although she was certain of the other girl's answer.

"Well, no. All the more reason that we have to get to shopping!" Ginny's unexpected response elicited a resolute sigh from Hermione.

"I suppose we can go have a look around," She responded, glancing regretfully at her ragged _Anne of Green Gables _series that she had planned on revisiting with her free day.

The girls quickly changed and joined Ginny's parents for breakfast. Shortly thereafter, to the sounds of Mrs. Weasley fussing over whether they had eaten enough, they said their goodbyes and were out the door.

Both girls had decided that to eschew the traditional robes often worn in wizard marriage ceremonies and so they apparated to the appropriate zone near a prominent wedding dress district in Muggle London. The boutique Ginny was excited to visit struck Hermione as luxurious with its high ceilings and plush, rose carpeting. Hermione felt adrift amidst the tulle, lace, and satin. The sheer amount of white was overwhelming. A severe-looking, couture clad saleswomen soon approached them.

"Hi I'm Hilary" – She coolly volunteered – "which of you two girls is getting married?" Hermione and Ginny exchanged a quick, humorous glance at her question.

"Ah, we both are," Ginny offered.

"Do you have dates picked out?" Hilary asked.

"I'm getting married at the end of the month and Hermione two weeks after that." Ginny's brisk response caused the saleslady's eyes to bulge.

"Oh heavens" – She exclaimed, breaking her frozen demeanor – "Even if you find dresses in that time, you won't be able to have them altered. We're going to have to find you something off the rack!"

"Oh, ah, that's ok. We have someone who can do the altering for us, quite quickly," Ginny informed her. Hermione struggled to keep from laughing, knowing that Ginny was referring to their ability to instantaneously alter anything. Hilary led the witches to a spacious change room, inquiring while they walked as to what sort of styles they were looking for. Hermione responded with a blank stare, but Ginny jumped into a rapid stream of chatter, using words Hermione had either never heard or were of a different language. Hilary left to locate some of Ginny's options, while Hermione stood idly by, happy to defer to her friend. Soon, Hilary returned with her arms full of a variety of shades of whites.

"So you girls must be very busy with both of you getting married so close," Hilary commented.

"Not really," Hermione countered. This seemed to confuse Hilary.

"But aren't you just being pulled all over the place with engagement parties, bridal showers, preparations, Stagettes" She asked in amazement.

"Stagettes?" Ginny piped up at the unfamiliar word.

"Yah, all the girls are keen on them. The bride's girlfriends will take her out. Have some drinks. Sometimes they'll have her wear a fun costume. It's just a chance to blow off some steam before your wedding. I'm surprise you girls haven't heard of them."

"Oh-oh, well, we, er, come from a very, er…conservative background." Hermione stuttered by way of an explanation. She glanced at Ginny for support. One look told her that her younger friend was completely in love with the idea; the red head had an impish look playing across her face which struck Hermione with a tinge of worry regarding what her young friend was planning.

-o-O-o-

The day flew by, a wash of fabrics, whites, and styles. Ginny had been keen to try on dresses of every fashion and Hilary had valiantly managed to keep up with the girl's whims. Even Hermione ventured to model a few she had fancied. However, none of the gowns seemed quite right. By the time the girls finally left the shop, Hermione was exhausted. She tried to reflect on her favourite styles, but couldn't properly recall any of the dresses; it was all a blur. The friends left the boutique and entered into the bright sun.

"Hey, Hermione. Do you mind waiting out here? I have a dress I want to purchase." Ginny told her the instant they emerged into the daylight.

"Yah, but why didn't you just buy it when we were in there?" Hermione thought her question was valid, but it drew an incredulous look from her companion.

"Mione, you can't see my dress before the wedding. Not if you're going to be my maid-of-honour. And please say you will!" The shorter girl bounced slightly, her face awash with hopefulness.

"Oh! Oh! Ginny, of course I will" – Hermione was genuinely touched by her friend's request; she hadn't even considered matters such as bridal parties – "And will you be mine?" She returned the question.

"Hermione! I'd love too," The two girls hugged. Hermione felt somewhat silly to be laughing and hugging while jumping in place in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, but those passing seemed to recognize it as typical behaviour found on the doorsteps of wedding dress shops. Ginny left Hermione alone momentarily and soon emerged.

"Thank Godric for Harry and his offer to buy any dress for me," She grinned. Hermione smiled back. The jokes about Harry's unspecified and unspent wealth were favourites amongst the Weasley clan. It touched Hermione that he was willing to dip into his family money for the sake of making Ginny happy.

"Well, back to the Burrow?" Hermione asked her glowing companion, realizing that it was well past lunch time. Ginny merely grinned airily.

-o-O-o-

Ron and Harry were already eating lunch at the Weasley's when the girls returned from their venture. The two liked to come for meals at the Burrow whenever the breaks in the Auror training allowed. With her argument with Ron fresh in her mind, the meal was awkward at best for Hermione. Ron, it appeared, shared the same discomforting feelings as he only mumbled a basic hello to Hermione and then avoided making eye contact throughout. Harry seemed to quickly grasp the uneasiness between his two best friends and attempted to overcompensate for it by alternating between engaging Hermione and Ron in animated chatter. Hermione was glad when the lunch was over and she was finally able to slink into the Weasley's sitting room and become lost in the world of Prince Edward Island with Anne Shirley. She read throughout most of the afternoon, re-falling in love with the familiar characters until her concentration was broken by a smiling red head peeking around the doorway.

"Oh, er, hello George. W-what are you doing here?" She asked, looking up over her book. A faint blush rose to her cheeks; she didn't know how to act around him after their familiarity the night before. A part of her wanted to jump into his strong arms, take his lips in hers, and return to where they had been the night before, but decorum prevented her from such behaviour. George, however, seemed less shackled by such shyness. He sank into the sofa practically on top of Hermione and slung his long legs over hers.

"I'm here to see you, love. Thought that would be obvious," He smiled, lounging against the arm of the couch. The uppermost buttons of his navy top were undone, exposing his neck, which looked, Hermione couldn't help but note, exceptionally kissable. "I have a little surprise for you," He said, brushing aside a few curly strands of Hermione's hair that had fallen in front of her face while she was hunched over her reading.

"Your last surprise almost ended in me falling to my death, George Weasley," She laughed cautiously at her hyperbolic claim. The soft touch of George's fingers sweeping aside her hair took her back to how his last surprise had actually ended.

"I'll keep you on the ground this time," George drawled, his voice husky. Hermione fought the temptation to grab him by the collar and soundly devour his mouth. "Put that book away and come outside with me!" George jumped to his feet and, with an exaggerated flourish, offered a polite hand to Hermione. She laughed, put aside her book and graciously accepted George's assistance. Hand in hand, he led her out towards the Weasley's backyard. Hermione liked the way her hand fit snugly in his firm grasp. As they walked across the yard, she felt comfortable and content; a matter helped considerable by the absence of a broom in his other hand.

They made their way to the large oak tree bordering the Weasley's lake. George sat by the trunk of the tree and motioned for Hermione to sit next to him. She did and George took her legs and pulled them into his lap, gently caressing her thigh. Looking out over the beautiful scene of the Weasley's yard in the late afternoon, Hermione finally yielded to her passions and took George's face in her hands. Lowering his face closer to hers, she planted a soft kiss, which he eagerly returned. Their kiss was sweet and gentle, lacking the raw urgency of the night before. Both sorts had their appeal as Hermione soon realized. While the other night had been intoxicating, removing her from reality, the kiss by the lake kept her in the present; she was constantly aware throughout. Rather than completely lose herself in the moment, she remained conscientious of her surroundings: the warmth of the sun, the roughness of the ground beneath her, the pounding of her heart. She was aware of George's hands, touching her legs, back, arms, and of the slight stubble on his chin on her skin. Hermione sighed heavily; she didn't want the moment to end, she wanted to have the time to enjoy all George had to offer. George pulled away at the sound of Hermione's sigh.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, his bright, blue eyes intently observing Hermione.

"Yah, it's perfect," Hermione murmured and leaned in to resume the kiss. George, however, brought a finger to her lips, stopping her movement.

"I actually brought you out here for a reason, Hermione," He reminded her.

"You mean other than snogging?" Hermione retorted, her tone ripe with flirtation.

"Yah, not that I can think of anything I'd rather be doing," He grinned and met her lips for a swift kiss. Slowly he pulled away from her face and Hermione could swear she saw something that resembled nervousness in George's eyes. He maintained steady eye-contact with her and briefly cleared his throat. "Hermione, I'd like to say something…I-I, uh, know that this isn't what you wanted" – he gestured between them – "but I want you to know that I don't feel like I'm being trapped into something awful." George inhaled deeply and continued: "In fact, quite the opposite. I think you're amazing and I think that anyone who gets to spend their life with you will be in for a very amazing, brilliant life." George smiled sweetly and Hermione detected a slight dampness building on the corner of his eyes. She was surprised that she had to brush away a few tears of her own; she hadn't been aware that she was that emotional.

"Thank you George," Her response to his kindness was genuine.

"I honestly think that we are going to find a way to make each other very happy, even if we didn't actually choose this for ourselves." With that comment George stood and pulled something out of his pocket that Hermione couldn't quite make out. She gasped as he dropped to one knee and opened his palm to display what he had pulled out of his pocket, a small, velvet, black box. "Hermione, I can't tell you quite yet that I love you, but I'm so, so incredibly fond of you. You're brilliant, smart, kind, scarily gorgeous, and I suppose you're just about everything that I'm looking for."

George opened the jewelry box and revealed a ring adorned with three square diamonds.

"Hermione, will you marry me?" The question was tentative and George's voice was husky as if something in his throat impeded him from speaking clearly. Hermione nodded in agreement; her cheeks damp from tears.

"George, I'd like that very much," She whispered.

"Hermione?" – George's tone was timid – "It's important that you know that I'm asking for myself, I'm not asking on behalf of the ministry. I want to marry you because I want to marry you, not because you're name was on a letter I received….and…and…I don't want you to say yes if you don't feel that way too."

"I feel the same George. Obviously this isn't something I chose. But maybe that's just because I never actually thought about it before. I know there are far worse people I could be with" – Hermione smiled – "I'm glad I'm with someone like you. I-I think…I think…I'd be very happy to spend my life with you." Hermione was surprised at how much George's face relaxed at her confirmation. His features softened and his lips broke into a smile.

Hermione accepted the jewelry box from George and tenderly plucked the ring from its stand. It was gorgeous. The stones were clear and unblemished. The band shone: a smooth white gold. Hermione rotated it in her fingers, astounded at its perfection. She noticed markings inside the band and brought the ring closer to try and decipher what was written. In simple italics, three words were delicately engraved: _Novi Habeo Foveo_. She looked at George quizzically, unfamiliar with the engraved words.

"Know, hold, cherish." He informed her.

"George, I-I, it-it," Hermione stumbled over a way to express the perfection of his gesture and gift. Settling on nothing, she instead went to slip the ring onto her proper finger.

"No, let me," He requested and gentle placed the ring on her finger. It was too large and spun easily, but after a quick tap from George's wand it fit perfectly. Hermione admired her hand, enjoying the way the ring shone so clearly, and smiled instinctively. The two kissed softly and then made their way, hand-in-hand, back to the Burrow.

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading. Also, reviews only make me want to keep on writing! I should add, obviously not mine, Rowling's! I realize now that I haven't included that with every chapter, so retroactively I'm saying it about every chapter. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Fred and Angelina's Wedding **

George and Hermione returned to the Burrow and were immediately greeted with squeals and hugs from the female Weasleys.

"This might just be the best day ever!" Ginny shouted several decibels louder than necessary while lunging at Hermione. Hermione's arms were pinned to her side as the fiery red-head tackled her in a smothering hug.

"Oi Ginny, you've gotten too strong with all that Quidditch training," Hermione laughed, struggling to maintain her balance while her friend jumped up and down in glee. "How did you guys know?" She asked, curious as to why Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were there waiting for them.

"I helped pick out the ring!" Ginny yelled excitedly.

"George told us earlier," Mrs. Weasley simultaneously offered, scooping Hermione into a hug after her daughter's grasp was finally relinquished. "I'm so happy for you two." She turned her attention to George. The sight of the tall red-head leaning over to secure his mother in a firm embrace hit a particularly soft spot of Hermione's heart. The sight confirmed in her mind that what she had told George by the lake was true; she actually could imagine being very happy with him.

-o-O-o-

Following the engagement, Hermione's ring had attracted much attention. Even some of her least talkative and most distant customers had paused to compliment her on the diamonds on her finger. Lydia had whistled appreciatively when she saw it.

"When you make up with your boyfriend, you make up with your boyfriend," Her co-worker chuckled. Hermione merely accepted the other girl's compliments without attempting to explain the particulars. The rash of attention amused Hermione. For a girl who had survived so much, merely accepting a piece of jewelry didn't seem like a noteworthy accomplishment, but she didn't bring that up with her many well-wishers.

The days passed rapidly and soon Fred and Angelina's wedding was descending upon the Burrow. On the day of the wedding, Hermione left her shift at the café for the Burrow. She and Ginny were leaving from there for Angelina's, who wanted her bridesmaids at her flat early so the girls could all get ready together. With a flash of bright, green light, the two stumbled into Angelina's sitting room.

"Ginny? Hermione? Is that you two?" Angelina's voice echoed from her bedroom. Hermione led Ginny to the girl's bedroom. Angelina's other two bridesmaids – her former Gryffindor Quidditch teammates, Alicia and Katie – were already there, struggling to help the taller girl with her complicated gown. Katie and Alicia were already in their bridesmaid dresses, so Hermione and Ginny located theirs from Angelina's closet and hastily changed.

Hermione loved the dress that Angelina had picked out for her attendants to wear. The simple strapless style with its full skirt flattered all the girls. The ivory ribbon that tied around the upper waist was a fitting accent to the red of the dress. The bright red – the wedding colour Angelina had insisted on – suited both Angelina and Fred's outgoing personalities, although Hermione worried that it would aggressively clash with the Weasley hair. One look, however, at Ginny in the dress told her that she needn't be concerned. Admittedly the colour was a bit jarring next to the girl's ginger locks, but the way her friend offset it with her good nature and a radiant smile made Hermione realized that only the most critical wedding guest would be able to find reason for complaint.

"Angelina, what is going on with that dress?" Ginny questioned as she and Hermione returned to their friend's bedroom. The dress appeared to be scattered in pieces around the room. Hermione was able to detect items that appeared to be a skirt, a sort of jacket, a corset and a sash.

"It seemed much simpler in the store," Angelina said sounding frustrated.

"Don't worry, Ang, we'll figure it out," Katie told her, although Hermione detected a lack of conviction in her tone.

Together the girls worked to sort out the confusion that was Angelina's dress. Once figured out, the gown was nothing short of extraordinary. The dress boasted an avant guarde style that would only work on very few people. Fortunately for the statuesque Angelina, she was one of that few. The dress' skirt was large and bell shaped. It was a deep ivory and heavily textured in a scallop-like pattern. The skirt was cut away on one side up to Angelina's hip, revealing a slightly darker, crinoline underlay. Over a bustier, she wore a structured, three-quarter sleeved jacket that was dyed a shade which bordered on bronze. The jacket was angular and futuristic, with an impressive, upturned collar which just brushed Angelina's chin. The front of the jacket came to a low point in the front, revealing much of Angelina's breastbone. The whole look was held together by a wide, ribbon sash. It tied at the back in an oversized bow, the ends of which almost touched the hem of the dress. By the time Angelina slicked her ringlets back, tying them in an elegant knot near the crown of her head and slipped on her teetering beige heels, she towered over her friends. Blood red lipstick and kohl lined eyes completed the look. Hermione thought her friend looked intimidating but beautiful; she was remarkably alluring for how little skin she was actually showing.

The girls set to their hair and makeup, sharing laughs and reminiscing of their favourite Angelina and Fred memories. Angelina passed around her red lipstick which the girls applied liberally while Katie joked about the time Angelina and Fred had gotten into a shouting match at Quidditch practice over which maneuvers to in a game against Ravenclaw.

"I remember that day. It was when I first realized you and Fred were perfect for each other," Alicia recalled, handing the lipstick tube to Hermione.

"You two were so passionate about Quidditch, it made sense to be passionate about each other too," Katie added.

"Oi, my relationship with Fred is built on more than just Quidditch," Angelina asserted in mock offence. Hermione giggled as she finished staining her lips, remembering the messy state Angelina and Fred had been in the time she and George had come home from the shop.

"Sure it is, Ang," Hermione tone was teasing, but she playfully wrapped her arm around her friend's waist to indicate that her jest was good-natured. Given that the two were marrying twins and best friends, it was important to Hermione to have a close relationship with the older girl; she didn't want to do anything to compromise the foundation that they had already established.

"I'm counting on you girls to go easy on me and Fred during toasts and what not," Angelina gave each of her bridesmaids a fierce glance in turn. "You know how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley can get."

"Oh yah, after how kind you and Fred were at mine and Lee's wedding last summer…" Katie rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"I really should have thought that through better," Angelina muttered regretfully, drawing laughter from the rest. Hermione found herself enjoying the company of the older girls. She had always felt out of place with the Gryffindor chasers during their Hogwarts years, so it pleased her to be relaxed around them now.

After giving each other final once-overs and paying excited compliments, the bride's party was ready to make their way to the Burrow. One by one the girls carefully stepped into Angelina's fireplace, each articulating the desired destination. Hermione tried to ignore the whirling sensation and then stepped out into the Burrow living room, to be greeted by Mrs. Weasley and a tall, dark man she assumed had to be Angelina's father.

"Oh sweetie, you look stunning," Mrs. Weasley strained her neck to plant a swift kiss on her soon-to-be daughter-in-law's cheek. "Whenever you girls are ready, we're all waiting for you outside."

"Angie likes to be fashionably late. She knows how to make an entrance," Mr. Johnson said fondly, proudly taking his daughter by her arm.

The girls got into proper formation and glided into the yard. Delicately stepping behind Ginny, Hermione walked towards the ceremony's set up, mindful of the heels of her black patent pumps in the grass. The Weasley's back yard was decorated in a similar fashion as it had been for Percy and Penny's wedding but with some definite Fred and Angelina touches added. The same benches were up but covered in red ribbons and flowers. The lanterns above those in attendance twinkled with reds, blues, and yellows along with the whites. The couple also decided to forgo the strings and had a sound system set up instead to play some of their favourite songs. Fred was already standing on the platform when Hermione started down the aisle. He was grinning proudly, although it looked to Hermione as if he was having trouble standing properly. By his side, George was beaming, clearly overjoyed for his twin. His smile was infectious and Hermione felt her cheeks start to grow sore as her own smile widened at the sight of George. Fred's hadn't chosen traditional wizard robes for his groomsmen. Instead, Fred, George, Lee, Ron, and Harry were wearing well-cut, black suits, with red dress shirts and ivory ties to match the bridesmaids. Doing her best to walk in time with the music, Hermione found her spot next to Ginny as Alicia and Katie filtered into their spots. The crowd stood for Angelina who dazzled as her father walked her down the aisle.

As Percy, the ministry representative, led Fred and Angelina through their exchange of vows, Hermione's eyes kept impulsively darting towards George. The amount of pride and happiness on his face for his brother was remarkable. Every time Hermione looked at him she felt a surge of affection for the tall red head. Based on the number of times their eyes caught, she couldn't help but wonder if he was also stealing glances her way.

To resounding cheers, as well as whoops and whistles from Fred and Angelina's rowdier friends – which as it appeared to Hermione was most of them – Fred and Angelina waltzed back down the aisle, their first walk as a married couple. In true Fred form, the grinning ginger did not shy away from being the centre of attention, taking pauses to bow and blow kisses to those in attendance. Hermione appreciated that he also allowed Angelina the spotlight, often motioning to his bride and encouraging her to spin for her guests to the sounds of their applause. Eschewing the tradition of the best man walking with the maid of honour, George nimbly bypassed Katie, instead letting Lee take his wife by the arm. George made a beeline for Hermione and tightly hooked his arm around her.

"Shall we?" He motioned down the aisle, indicating that they were to follow Lee and Katie.

"Lead the way," Hermione grinned. Arm in arm, the pair practically skipped back down the aisles. Together they waved to the crowd and Hermione even felt giddy enough to throw in a few of her own blown kisses.

"Watch where you're sending those," George teasingly spoke into her ear in a hushed tone. Hermione shivered slightly at the feeling of his cheek on hers, but didn't break her stride down the aisle. The perfect evening weather, the previous exchange of happiness, and the handsome wizard on her right proved to be a winning combination as Hermione felt light on her feet as she walked with George. They reached the end of the aisle and Hermione tried to turn to watch her remaining friends. George, however, had different ideas, as he caught her in a firm embrace and playfully dipped her low, startling her with a firm kiss on the mouth at the bottom of the arch.

"Hey there, none of that on my day," Fred teased. "Let's show them how it's done Ang!" With that comment Fred offered an arm to Angelina which she gamely fell into. Dipping her even lower than George had Hermione, to a crescendo of cheers, Fred kissed his bride. Rather than discouraged at being outdone, Hermione and George joined in the applause until the couple finally broke the extended kiss and came up for air.

-o-O-o-

Unlike Percy's conservative wedding crowd, Fred and Angelina's rambunctious friends needed no encouragement to participate in dancing. As soon as the last strains of the Van Morrison song ended and Fred and Angelina's ceremonial first dance was complete, the dance floor filled up. Lee put on a fast pace tune and the Weasley's back yard erupted with noise. The bartenders looked ragged as they had no shortage of requests from the eager-to-party group. Hermione soon found herself in the middle of the dance floor, a part of the red-clad circle of the wedding party. She and her friends surrounded the newlyweds who put on an impressive show of dance. Hermione had to hand it to Angelina; the girl was able to pull off some remarkable moves and spins even with the impediment of the large, cumbersome gown.

"They've got nothing on us." George spoke from beside Hermione. Her reached over to her and guided her into a lengthy pirouette. Once encircled in his arms, the pair began their own waltz-like dance. Hermione smiled and added some personal flourishes. George pushed her away from him and then immediately pulled her back. Instead of allowing him to let her out again as the pattern would dictate, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and directed him into a spin, rotating around while he pivoted in place.

"Oh, so you think you get to lead now," George teased but followed her queue nevertheless.

"You'll like it," She promised. He pulled her closer to end her movement. Hermione rose on her tip toes while tugging George's head down. Smiling, he kissed her and she reciprocated. The pair embraced in the midst of the party revelers and engaged in chaste kisses.

"Oi, are you two incapable of keeping your hands, or should I say your mouths, off each other?" Fred joked, interrupting the pair as he glided by with Angelina in his arms.

"Guilty," George replied to his twin. "But can you blame me, mate?" He chuckled and swept Hermione into a lengthier kiss. When they broke, Hermione was immediately aware of various eyes on them. Self-consciously, she tried to shake it off and resume dancing with George, but she couldn't help but note Harry and Ginny in the corner of her eye staring at them with curious and overjoyed looks respectively.

"Don't mind them, love," George whispered, evidently aware of Hermione's unease. He led her into a playful, fast pace dance that for some reason involved odd kicks and struts. Normally the obscure dance would have caused Hermione just as much reservation as the public kissing, but George made it so fun and ridiculous that soon she was laughing heartily, admirably managing to keep up with her partner. George was beaming throughout. The colour of his red shirt didn't suit his complexion at all, but he managed to pull it off wonderful. His ivory tie hung in a lackadaisical knot around his neck which Hermione was tempted to use as leverage for pulling him into a kiss. Hermione was aware that their energetic dancing was messing up her carefully constructed curls and had brought a noticeable flush to her face, but she didn't mind; such downsides were a small price to pay for the enjoyable time.

They continued dancing through several song changes, occasionally stopping to field congratulations from other guests. At times Hermione wondered if George was going out of his way to ensure that everyone knew of their status. On a few instances, it seemed to Hermione that he was the one interrupting his old Hogwarts friends to introduce her and show off the ring. During one soft medley, Hermione put aside all her concerns of watchful eyes and surrendered to George's embrace as they swayed in spot. The moment was cut short however, when Hermione felt a soft pat on her shoulder.

"Do you mind if I cut in?" Hermione turned and saw Ron's anxious looking face.

"Ahh," Hermione stuttered. She turned around to locate Lavender, not fancying the scene she worried might happen if the other girl didn't wish for her fiancé to dance with his ex. Lavender, however, was sitting on a nearby bench happily chatting with Ginny. Lavender wasn't eying them suspiciously or casting jealous looks about the yard for Ron, so Hermione assumed that Ron had informed her of his plans. Hermione turned her face to George and shot him a look she hoped conveyed her need to have a moment with Ron.

"I, ah, will hit the bar quickly," He volunteered and gave Hermione a squeeze on the shoulder. Passing Ron, he quickly double patted his younger brother's back. "Take care of her, mate."

Hermione regretfully watched him walk off; Ron had interrupted a pleasurable and intimate moment. Unsure exactly how to proceed, Hermione tentatively placed a hand on Ron's shoulder; he responded by timidly touching her waist and lightly taking her other hand in his. Their posture lacked the relaxed familiarity Hermione shared with George. As Lee started a new song, the former couple began to awkwardly shuffle in place, standing rigidly and moving hesitantly.

"I, ah, um, thanks for dancing with me," Ron started as if to make conversation.

"Anytime," Hermione told him not entirely sure she meant it. The two danced silently maintaining arms length distance, until the song started to reach its end and Ron cleared his throat.

"Hermione, I need to apologize for what a prat I was that day at your work." He started, shaking his head when Hermione tried to intervene to tell him it was already forgotten. "No, it's important that I tell you this. Everything you said to me that day was right. I'm sorry I wasn't a better boyfriend."

"Ron…it's fine. I never thought you were a bad boyfriend. We just weren't…" Hermione faltered; one look at Ron told her that he knew what she meant without the words.

"I can't lose you as a friend," He said, his eyes intense.

"Ron! Losing you as a friend is one of my worst nightmares!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Really?" – Ron said sounding both doubtful and relieved – "I-I didn't know."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione sounded so much like her old-Hogwarts self that the two both broke into uneasy giggles. They shared a smile while their bodies relaxed slightly for the final few bars of the song. It ended and Hermione felt a strong hand at the small of her back.

"Do you mind if I take her for another go, baby brother?" George managed to make the moniker sound not unkind. Ron obliged, gave Hermione a soft peck on the cheek, and left the dance floor to join Ginny and Lavender. George and Hermione quickly fell into the familiar rhythm of their previous dances. Hermione was grateful that she had the opportunity to smooth things over with Ron but was comfortable to be back in George's arms. They continued dancing until they were one of the last couples left on the floor.

"Oi, Oi." Fred broke the quiet that was beginning to settle over the Burrow by yelling out to the remaining guests who responded with a chorus of requests for a speech. "Thank you for coming to our wedding," The red-head started grandiosely.

"Here, here," George hollered out from the midst of wedding guests back to his twin.

"Thank you, Georgie,"

"You're welcome, Fredie,"

"Ok you two" – Angelina intervened – "You've all been such lovely guests, and we're so honoured that you were here to celebrate with us." The crowd clapped and Fred nodded, evidently content to let his wife speak for him. "Accio broom!" She shouted, prepared to make the typical Weasley exit. Fred caught the broom as it zoomed over from its spot by the platform and made a show of climbing on the broom and flourishing his hand to Angelina to help her on behind him. Angelina merely laughed off his offer and repeated the spell. A second broom, this one from one of the uppermost windows of the Burrow, sailed over the heads of the guests and settled in Angelina's hand. Pulling her skirt snugly around her legs, she settled in a sidesaddle balance on the broom. The couple waved to their guests and shot into the air. After performing several complicated maneuvers and overlapping loop-de-loops which Hermione was certain they had choreographed in advance, Fred and Angelina faded into the distance.

_Author's Note: Guys, thanks for all the super sweet comments. I was having a really down day when I read the most recent and it was a huge pick-me-up! Thank you so much! I'm so nervous now though that I'm going to screw it all up. [Also NB: still not mine, always Rowling's]. Ps. Good observation on the overuse of "Let's get the hell out of here." I thought I was going to tie it all together, but now I probably won't so it's just going to be odd. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Continuing Celebrations **

In the following days, Hermione saw as much of George as she could. Often he would stop by the café; coming often enough that he actually admitted he had acquired a taste for coffee. Other times, the pair would pass time in the Weasley twins' joke shop, working silently together on new products or improvements on old ones. These were the moments Hermione appreciated the most. She felt inventing was the most notable overlap of both their favourite interests: George's love of pranks and her appreciation for discovery. The two would sit side by side, occasionally one interrupting the calm to ask for a second opinion from the other. To George's chagrin, Hermione refused to help with any products she feared could be used for cruel natured or exceptionally embarrassing pranks.

"If you only had the heart of a prankster, Mione, you'd be unstoppable." He told her one afternoon as they worked together.

"I can't ignore my academic nature entirely, and you know that," She teased in response. To half-heartedly joking protests from the twins she had started creating a line of products that would help students with their learning.

"You're going to start giving people the wrong idea as to what we're all about," George laughed looking over at the beetle-like object Hermione was working on. She had bewitched it to crawl through books and light up whenever passing over a desired key word or phrase.

"Unless kids use them to get their work done faster so they have more time for, I don't know, playing jokes or practicing Quidditch," She pointed out as compromise, returning to her attempts at perfecting the tiny, black object. George ginned at her affectionately and turned back to experiment on his own work.

-o-O-o-

It felt to Hermione that practically no time had elapsed between Fred and Angelina's wedding to when she found herself standing alongside Ginny, Pavarti, Padma, and Lavender's older sisters in true-to-form Lavender coloured bridesmaid dresses to celebrate Ron's wedding. When Lavender had approached her and nervously asked her to be one of her attendants, Hermione had been overwhelmed. She told Lavender that she would be delighted to participate and only regretted it briefly when Lavender had taken to insisting on everything being up to her own notions of perfection.

The wedding was a lavish and glamorous affair. Even though the guest were seated in the Brown's substantial, exquisitely manicured yard, Lavender had insisted on making a showy entrance down the spectacular, spiral central staircase in the house's entry, merely for the sake of the photographs. Hermione delicately stepped down the impressive stairway, leading the line of bridesmaids out to the ceremony. Ron and Lavender's wedding was widely attended and several large sections of chairs had been set up to fit everyone. Hermione didn't recognize most of the formally-attired guests and assumed that many where there on behalf of Lavender's father, a prominent, wizard business man. An eight piece sting ensemble played as the girls glided down the aisle. Ron and Lavender shyly exchanged the traditional vows while the audience respectfully watched; there was none of the cheers and cat-calls that had been present at the other Weasley weddings.

Despite the pomp and splendor of the event, Hermione still found the wedding to be sweet and touching. Ignoring the display of trivialities, Lavender and Ron were transfixed on each other throughout. The happy, if spaced out, look on Ron's face would have prevented Hermione from feeling any jealousy even if she thought that she had persistent, romantic inclinations for her ex. Lavender and Ron beamed as they were introduced by the ministry official as husband and wife. Hermione brushed away a quick tear for her good friend as he made his way back down the aisle with Lavender to the polite applause from the guests. She accepted Harry's arm and walked, with him, followed the newlyweds down the aisle.

"You look gorgeous tonight, Mione," He compliment was offered in a kind tone and he smiled at his friend while admiring her frilly, purple cocktail gown.

"Thanks Harry. You look very handsome yourself," She replied. Harry was always exceptionally good at carrying off traditional dress robes.

"I mean it, Mione, you've looked great lately. Very happy,"

"I am, Harry." Hermione spoke sincerely. She happily accepted a quick hug from her best friend once they reached the end of the aisle. She turned to watch the rest of Ron and Lavender's wedding parties complete their walks, smiling at the sight of Ginny and George, arm in arm, looking thrilled for their brother.

Hermione soon realized, once the wedding festivities got underway, that what the Weasley ceremonies had lacked in finery, they had more than made up for in spirit. Mr. Brown had taken no shortcuts in ensuring that his daughter's wedding boasted all the best flourishes – the richest catering, the finest wines, the elegant music selections – but Hermione thought the wedding didn't have the same liveliness of the summer's previous ones. One look around told her that many of the guests were in attendance more for the potential business connections than to celebrate the marriage, the bar was scarcely populated, and the music wasn't conducive to dancing. She glanced around for Ron, worried that he would be disappointed; he clearly was not. She saw Ron sitting off to the side of the dance floor. His freckled face shone with a smile and his hand was firmly in Lavender's. Lavender, for her part, looked brilliant. The embezzled, hooped-skirt, ballroom gown she had chosen suited her perfectly and her face was a picture of happiness and serenity.

"Three down, can you believe it?" George asked her, looping his arm over his shoulder.

"Four if you count Bill," Hermione corrected as she placed her hand on his knee.

"Oh right, silly me" George shook his head at his mistake.

"Understandable, you have a very large family," Hermione chuckled.

"So large no one would notice if I left this wedding?" He asked.

"Well, I don't know about that…"

"Really? Most people have left already and it looks like everything's about to wind down," George ginned at her and Hermione could swear his look contained a trace of naughtiness.

"Are you inviting me somewhere?" Hermione's tone was flirtatious and inquisitive; she hoped she wasn't unnecessary reading into what was merely intended as polite conversation.

"Fred's finally gotten settled at Angelina's flat, I mean their flat, so we could hang out at ours, er, mine." George leaned in towards Hermione and whispered his offer in her ear. Hermione bit her lip, enjoying the brushing of his lips against her skin.

"Well…" Hermione was fairly certain she knew what George was proposing and she was tempted by his suggestion. It occurred to her that some people – a certain occasional, green beetle for instance – might assume that leaving an ex's wedding with his brother was rather tawdry behavior, but the circumstances seemed less straightforward than that. Nevertheless, she couldn't help wonder what fun Rita Skeetor would have reporting on the situation and relabeling Hermione as a scarlet woman. She hastily looked around the Brown's yard and saw that people were indeed starting to trickle out and that no one seemed mindful of her and George. She turned to George and met his expectant look with a nod. "Yah, let's go hang out there. We're not needed here anymore."

George, seeming uncharacteristically tentative, offered Hermione his hand and the two silently wandered over the grass to the other side of the Brown's house. From there, they apparated to the flat which used to belong to the twins but which only George now called home.

Hermione landed with a thud in the living room of the flat. She gave her mind a moment to stop reeling from the transportation and found George's couch, sitting nimbly she hugged one of the magenta throw pillows to her chest, unsure if she should make the first move. George quickly solved that problem by coming to sit closely beside her. In one smooth movement, he pulled her legs over his and removed the pillow from her grasp. He enveloped her in his arms and the pair remained quieted for awhile.

"Hey you," Hermione eventually told him, doing her best to sound coy while slightly loosening herself from George's hold in order to shift towards him and cup his face in her hands.

"Hey right back," He rasped. Moving his hands up her back, he grabbed fistfuls of her dress and leveraged her up and in towards him. Without fumbling, he found her lips with his. Hermione returned his kisses, eagerly allowing the intensity between them to increase. Rather than being content to linger on chaste, polite kisses, she tossed aside any sort of decorum and desperately pushed passed George's lips with her tongue. A moan escaped her mouth as their tongues met and fought for position. Hermione let her hands roam wild: running them through George's shaggy hair, caressing his muscled arms, enjoying the feel of the slight stubble on his cheeks, grabbing at his back. She was aware that he was doing much the same with her. The passion behind their kisses began to explode and Hermione was somewhat conscientious that she was doing almost as much biting as kissing. Starting to feel uncomfortable with her awkward, half seated position, she forcefully clasped his shoulders and drove him onto his back, finding a spot, lying horizontally not quite beside him on the couch, but not exactly on top of him.

"Ahh, Mione," George murmured. Hermione immediately felt her cheeks burn fire, concerned that he was put off with by her aggression. "Do you think my room would be more comfortable?" His voice was barely audible, but his eyes glimmered with energy. Hermione ran her tongue over her chapped, ravaged lips and shook her head in silent agreement. She hopped up off the couch and stood feeling a bit self conscious while absentmindedly straightening out the now-wrinkled skirt of her dress. George led the way to his room. Hermione placed her hands on his hips while he walked in front of her, feeling her heart beat fill her chest, stomach, and throat.

"Well, this is my room," George stated the obvious opening the bedroom door. The room was sparse but welcoming. George had put some of his favourite Quidditch posters up and had old text books stacked in one corner. Hermione was impressed by the lack of clothes strewn about. Joining George to sit on the edge of the bed, she tried to ignore the pictures of him and his family decorating his bed-side table.

"It's lovely," Hermione didn't know what else to say and lamely settled on the unnecessary comment. George prevented her from saying anymore, however, as he immediately took her face in his hands and silenced additional words by finding her lips with his mouth. Hermione was pleasantly surprised at how quickly things took off. George hastily pushed aside his bright orange duvet, cradling Hermione in his arms he lowered her down until his back came into contact with his crisp sheets.

"You look amazing, Mione," George propped himself up with a hand on either side of her. His face glowed with anticipation.

"Come here," Hermione commanded and wrapped her hands around George's neck to pull him towards her and kissed him soundly. Maintaining the kiss, he found a spot comfortably beside her, his legs covering hers. Before Hermione even realized it, her hands had sought George's tie. Deftly, she loosened the knot and pulled the impediment over his head. Her fingers flew to the buttons of George's cobalt shirt; without hesitation, she started working to undo the clasps. Once the shirt was opened, Hermione assisted George in slipping it off, revealing his well-formed torso. Her hands kneaded his naked shoulders and back. She rubbed his chest, surprised at how soft and supple his skin felt compared to the roughness of his hands. She moved next to his hair, running her fingers through it, noting that it was damp with sweat. Finally, her arms settled around his waist as George also held her close.

The lengths of their bodies were pressed together, as their kisses became furious. Hermione tried not to be mindful of her skirt riding up, revealing her upper thighs. There was so little separating her from George. George ran his hands along her arms. He rotated onto his back, lifting Hermione on top of him, sending his arms to her lower back. He caressed her back and then paused; Hermione was aware that he was fingering the zipper at the top of her dress, fumbling with the complicated clasp, toying with the notion of leaving her exposed.

"Hermione?" The questioning word was husky.

"Yes?"

"You sure?" George's tone was tentative, daring to ask permission for what he wanted. Hermione nodded.

"I am. I'd like to, George," Her voice was soft but definite. She continued with her assault on George's lips, which he eagerly returned. George finally mastered the dress' finicky clasp. Hermione deepened her kisses while George exposed her back. His fingers ran along her spine, sending shivers through Hermione's skin. She soon felt fully absorbed in the physicality; neither intervened to prevent the inevitable conclusion of the escalation of passion.

-o-O-o-

The following morning Hermione woke with flash, initially confused by the unusual surroundings. The sight her companion's uncovered chest and stomach beside her brought the earlier events rushing back. Pulling the orange duvet up to her neck she lay awake, unable to fall back asleep, but unsure if she should disturb George's slumber. Several moments, a handful, or maybe closer to an hour passed; she wasn't sure as she seemed to have lost her gage on time. Eventually she heard gentle moans coming from the direction of her companion.

"Hey there," He told her lazily, rolling over and softly kissing her forehead.

"Good morning, George," She replied, not quite able to match his lackadaisical tone but returning his kiss with a quick peck on his chin. He wrapped his arms around her body while she remained surrounded by the duvet and pulled her close to him. Hermione sighed, starting to feel content, enjoying the musty morning smell and the light streaming in through the window. They remained in stillness for some time.

"Ugh," She mumbled, disheartened to break the quiet. "I need to get back to the Burrow. Ginny is going to be wondering where I am" – a worrying thought suddenly occurred to her – "Damn, Ginny…she's going to be awfully curious about my absence," Hermione guiltily informed George, knowing that her roommate wouldn't shy away from interrogating her as to where she spent the night. She gulped, feeling concern that the information could become family gossip if the always talkative Ginny got her way. "What should I tell her, George?"

"The truth?" The red head grinned proudly. "I don't about you, Mione, but I see nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not sure your mum would say the same." Hermione shivered, fearful of Molly's response if she found out that Hermione had stayed over at her son's. Hermione cautiously stood and attempted to find where her clothes had been discarded, feeling more self-conscious in the daylight. One look at George's admiring expression told her she needn't worry. Hermione hastily pulled her rumbled dress on, struggling with the back zipper.

"Here, let me, love," George offered, noticing the difficulties Hermione was having. She sat next to him on the bed and he did up her dress. Gently, he massaged her shoulders kissing the parts that were exposed by her top before moving his lips to her neck. "Are you sure you have to leave?" He asked huskily, his voice soaked in eagerness.

"I-I probably should get back," Hermione's comment lacked certainty and didn't even convince herself. She met George's eyes; they were teasing but saturated with longing. "But I doubt Ginny's missing me quite yet." She stayed and surrendered to the moment instead of being mindful of responsibility.

-o-O-o-

With the startling pop of apparition Hermione materialized in her room. She had decided to disregard the Ministry's protocols on apparition in order to avoid being seen by anyone in the previous night's outfit.

"Hermione! You slut," Ginny's shriek greeted her. She turned to find her roommate, spotting Ginny on her bed. A huge mischievous smile lit up her friend's face.

"Oh, um, hi Ginny," Hermione responded nondescriptly.

"I was wondering where you got off too," Ginny mentioned, clearly doing her best to sound casual. "You left the wedding rather early. George seemed to be missing too."

"I was, er, exhausted. So many weddings…"

"Don't give me that," – the red head joked – "I want details!"

"Details?"

"Oh get off it, Hermione. You were gone all night and I'm pretty sure I can guess where you were,"

"If that's the case, Gin," – Hermione retorted with a playful chuckle – "I fail to see why you need me to tell you,"

"Well, if you were out all night shagging my brother, that's the sort of thing I would like to hear from you first," Ginny's arms were akimbo and she flashed Hermione a poignant look from across the room.

"Really? I should think that is the very last thing you would want to hear about," Hermione teased.

"Well the mental images aren't exactly pleasant, but Hermione, if something is going on I want to know. And besides, I told you all about the first time I shagged Harry." Ginny's words were rushed together, her statement rising in crescendo.

"And that was entirely unasked for." Hermione responded finding amusement in her friend's worked up manner. "But, if you must know, yes, we shagged." Her confirmation was met with a peal of excited squeaks and giggles.

"Aha! I knew it. I knew it was going to happen ever since you two were all over each other at Fred's wedding."

"Once again Ginny, this is your brother you're discussing..."

"I know and I don't care. It's all too much," Ginny laughed. Hermione thought her friend looked a little too overjoyed considering that she was the one had participated in the experience that her friend found so exciting. "You totally want him, don't you?"

"Gin, I just told you that we were just together. Literally, twenty minutes ago, we were together. It should be obvious that I wanted him," Hermione sighed.

"You know what I mean. You want him want him. I think you're crazy about him,"

Hermione didn't respond to the younger girl's observation, but she couldn't help but ruminate on her friend's comment, thinking that it was, most likely, in fact true. Ginny left for her Quidditch practice and Hermione changed and got into bed to catch up on the sleep she didn't get the night before.

_Author's Note: Thanks again for the reads, the follows, and the lovely comments! [Not mine, JK's] _


	15. Chapter 15

**The Boy who Wed **

Over the next week, Hermione endured, what was in her opinion, far too much teasing from Ginny. Thankfully, her friend hadn't spread the gossip but she did make sure to bring it up often with Hermione.

"Bet you wish George was here," The red head chided as the pair made their way up the stairs to Fred and Angelina's flat for Ginny's stagette. Ever since salesperson Hilary had planted the idea in her friend's head, Ginny had been enamored with it. Angelina offered to host the bridesmaids while the twins took Harry and his groomsmen out in return. Hermione pretended to ignore Ginny's jab, but she knew the girl was right. Since Ron and Lavender's wedding she hadn't gotten as many chances to see George as she would have liked; their work schedules hadn't allowed for much opportunities together.

"Although, maybe you saw enough of him last night…came in awfully late I noticed," Ginny continued her teasing, referencing one of the few instances Hermione had gotten time with George.

The girls were greeted at the door by a smiling Angelina and a bottle of champagne. Angelina had on a bright pink mini dress, fulfilling the instructions on Ginny's invitations to wear black, white, and pink. Hermione glanced down at her high-waisted black skirt, pink tank top, and multiple black beaded necklaces and hoped that she was dressed appropriately; it was her first stagette and she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Following warm welcomes, Angelina ushered the girls to her sitting room.

"Here you go," Lavender wrapped a pink feather boa around Ginny's neck. "My sister wore one of these for her stagette." Hermione assumed Lavender was referring to her sister who was married to a Muggle.

"Oh hi Ginny, Hermione" An airy voice sounded from Angelina's wicker lounger. Hermione looked up and saw Luna, the last of Ginny's bridesmaids, sitting cross legged in a long white shirt over pink-stripped leggings. Her long blond hair was piled on top of her head and stuck full of tiny, pink flowers. Pink egg-like objects hung from her ears. Hermione and Ginny exchanged hugs with their friend who they hadn't seen in some time.

"So, what's the plan?" Ginny asked excitedly, eager to get her stagette festivities underway.

"I thought we could have a drink here and then head out for some dancing," Angelina suggested, handing the girls glasses of champagne.

"Girl talk is an important part of these things," Lavender said knowingly, grinning impishly.

"You mean like talking about how Hermione is shagging George?" Ginny asked, adopting an innocent tone. Ginny's divulgence drew a gush of squeals from Angelina and Lavender. Luna remained in the chair, idly spinning her bracelet, watching the other girls with a look of amusement.

"Really, Ginny?" Hermione gave her friend a reproachful look, but smiled into her champagne glass while Angelina and Lavender crowded her.

"When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?" Angelina beseeched her for information. Hermione assumed a coy look.

"If you must know, although I don't see why it's of any interest, we left together after, ahh," – She cast Lavender an apologetic look – "Ron and Lavender's wedding…sorry Lav." Hermione was worried that the other girl would be uncomfortable with that detail, but Lavender didn't seem perturbed.

"Are you going to see him again, Mione?" She asked, eliciting laughter from Ginny and Angelina.

"They are getting married," Ginny emphasized the final word.

"Oh right," Lavender's response was quiet.

"Have you seen each other again since," Angelina asked pointedly.

"Yah Ang, a couple times," Hermione admitted.

"How many, exactly?" Angelina teased. "Or even just an estimate."

"I'm pretty sure you know already that I'm not going to answer that." Hermione told her. She had to chuckle at her friends' enthusiasm. Even though being the centre of attention wasn't her favourite spot, she was having fun talking and laughing with the other girls. Angelina ensured that the glasses were always topped up and the girls joked with Ginny about Harry's former moniker of Undesirable Number One. Hermione wasn't normally one for large gatherings of girls, but as she sat snuggled between Ginny and Angelina on the couch, she felt nothing but belonging and enjoyment.

"Why don't we get going," Angelina proposed after each of the girls finished her drink. To whoops from Ginny, the five hurriedly left the flat, ready to celebrate Ginny's upcoming nuptials.

-o-O-o-

"Ginny! Wake up! You're getting married today!" Hermione tugged on her roommates arm, attempting to pull her off her bed.

"Erm, it's so early," the sleepy red head mumbled.

"You're the one who wanted the day wedding, Gin," Hermione reminded her, chuckling at her friend's dazed state. Her bridesmaids had kept her out late. Ginny had been in her element; she had claimed the middle of the dance floor at Confundus, dancing erratically and occasionally suggestively with her feather boa. Angelina, Lavender and Hermione had done their best to keep up with their feisty friend. Even Luna had kept them company on the dance floor most of the night, adding her own unique brand of spacey twirls to the mix. Hermione's face was sore from laughing at her friends' antics and her head spun lightly from the liquid spirits. As she attempted to coax Ginny out of bed, she wondered if the late night of celebrating wasn't as good of an idea as it as seemed at the time.

"Can't I just stay in bed a bit longer?" Ginny pleaded feebly.

"No Gin, you have to get up to get married. Ang, Lav, and Luna are going to be here any minute. Here" – Hermione handed her friend a small vial of the purple, smoky potion she had gotten from George earlier – "This will make you feel better." The red head gratefully accepted the container and drank its contents.

"Ok! Let's go!" Almost immediately, Ginny jumped out of bed with a joyous look on her face. Charging out of the room, she called back to her roommate: "Come'on Hermione, we don't want to be late."

Hermione darted after her friend, chasing her into the Weasley's living room just in time to see Luna emerge from the fire place.

"Oh hi you two, beautiful day for a wedding," The small blonde said in her dreamy soprano while absentmindedly glancing around the Weasley's room. Hermione stole a quick glance out of the large bay window and saw that it was overcast, but she didn't bother to point that out to the other girl. Shortly they were joined by Lavender and Angelina.

"Morning girls," Mrs. Weasley walked into the room carrying a tray of tea and scones. Hermione thought she seemed flustered. "Oh isn't it just such a lovely, lovely occasion," Mrs. Weasley rambled while staring fondly at her youngest. "I'm going to miss you so much dear," She placed the tray on the coffee table and lovingly cupped a hand on her daughter's cheek.

"Mum, I'm not going very far. Harry and I will only be at Grimmauld Place." Ginny asserted seeming a trifle embarrassed at her mum's display of affection.

"I know dear…still," Mrs. Weasley's eyes shone bright with dampness and she sighed slightly. She gave herself a quick shake and adopted a brisk, professional manner. "Ok, girls, eat up and then we'll get everything ready for today."

The girls set to the tea and scones while exchanging lively chatter about the events of the previous night. Eventually Mrs. Weasley left and shortly returned, bringing back Ginny's dress. The girls slipped into their bridesmaid dresses while Molly helped Ginny with her gown. The bridesmaid dresses were simple but elegant. The top had a straight neckline that came to just under the collarbone. The bodice was fitted and the dress had no sleeves. A bell shaped skirt to the knees completed the dress. Hermione liked the vintage style of the dress; it was not unnecessarily showy, but still pretty and feminine. All the bridesmaids except Hermione had dresses of a muted black. Hermione's was of a bright, emerald green. She wondered if Harry and Ginny had chosen that colour for her to reference the fact that she was there for both of them; the colour was a perfect replica of Harry's eyes.

"Oh Gin, you look beautiful," She breathed at the sight of her friend. Ginny's wedding dress was impressive without being over-the-top. The bodice had a sweetheart neckline and was adorned with delicate beading. The skirt floated out like a cloud around Ginny. Her brilliant red hear was pulled to the side and knotted behind one ear. Following the tradition of Weasley women on their wedding days, Ginny had on an antique veil of soft ivory lace. The veil just skimmed her fingertips. The usually excitable, bubbly girl had an expression of stillness; she seemed at peace. Looking at her friend while she perfected her makeup, Hermione had to wipe away a few quick tears and she witnessed Mrs. Weasley do the same.

"Ready to go, sweetie?" Mr. Weasley knocked on the door and shouted through the barrier as the girls finished up their final touches.

"Yes, dear, we're all done," Mrs. Weasley called back to her husband.

Arthur joined the bridal party in the living room. Ginny accepted her father's arm and smiled at her bridesmaids, indicating that it was time for them to make their way to the ceremony. As Hermione followed Luna across the Weasley's yard, she was relieved to see that the day had started to brighten; rain no longer seemed to be a concern. To the strains of the acoustic guitar music Harry and Ginny had selected, she strode down the aisle, eager to get into her proper place to watch Ginny complete her walk. The sight of Harry drew a lump to Hermione's throat. He was standing tall in his sharp, dark suit, with his shoulders held back. His look was one of nervous pride. Standing beside him, Ron kept giving him supportive pats on the shoulder. Hermione smiled deeply at the sight of two of her best friends. Beside them, the rest of Harry's groomsmen stood: Neville, Fred, and George.

Hermione reached the front of the assembled. She quickly placed a peck of a kiss on Harry's cheek and then Ron's. Finding her spot, she looked out over the gathered. Harry and Ginny had opted for a small, intimate affair; while there were many who were curious about seeing The Boy Who Lived get married, but they had wanted to limit their wedding to only their closest friends. Beside her, Harry drew a sharp intake of air. Looking up, Hermione immediately knew what had caused his reaction: Ginny was starting her way down the aisle. The red head looked divine. Amongst the simplicity of the wedding, she stood out in her brilliance.

The acoustic guitarist began plucking an English traditional melody as Ginny and her father approached the party at the front. Hermione ventured that there wasn't a dry eye in their midst. She even caught Percy, who was officiating the wedding and doing his best to maintain his most pompous demeanor, brushing the corner of his eyes with his thumb. Hermione glanced at George and broke into a slightly larger grin at the sight of him. He was the image of brotherly pride and devotion, his face shinning with a smile and eyes noticeably damp with joy for his beloved little sister. She looked out over the faces of the guests. Everyone looked proud and thrilled; each and every one of those in attendance had a strong investment in seeing Harry find happiness. Hermione sighed contently; she couldn't imagine a more perfect day.

Percy began reciting the traditional, vows exchanged in wizard ceremonies, as Harry blinked to, Hermione assumed, maintain his composure. In a raspy, hushed voice Harry repeated Percy's lines. To Hermione, he was barely audible. She knew that meant none of the guests would be able to hear him but, looking out over the crowd indicated that everyone was, nevertheless intent. Ginny followed, sounding clear and certain as she recited her vows, grinning joyously at Harry the entire time.

"Coniungi, in una caritate, una aeterna," – Percy proclaimed to the congregation in the customary Latin declaration, announcing Harry and Ginny as husband and wife – "Virum et mulierem."

Ginny and Harry kissed heartily to energetic cat calls from Ron, Fred, and George. Even Neville participated with a few whistles of his own. Hermione and the rest of the bridesmaids put down their bouquets in order to join in the applause. Responding to the gleeful requests from the crowd, Harry leaned in for another kiss from his bride. Hermione, however, never saw if the kiss was completed because she was suddenly thrown into the air by a powerful blast, an exploding sound ringing in her ears. Shrieking in astonishment, she rammed into grass, her arms and legs awkwardly splayed beneath her.

"What the hell is happening?" She yelled to no one, struggling to clamor to her feet. Standing up, her hand immediately went to her wand and she instinctively adopted a fighting stance. The wedding was in disarray. Screams surrounded Hermione as she hastily tried to figure out the danger. Smoke covered the wooden platform and she could barely make out that it was now splintered into pieces. In the corner of her eye she could see Ginny's large dress crumbled on the ground and she begged for the girl to be alright. To her relief, Ginny got to her feet, wand flourished, her wedding gown ripped and dirtied from the blast and subsequent fall. Hermione saw the rest of the wedding party; all with their wands ready, surrounding the platform. The Weasley's back yard was filled with chaos. Hermione's jaw was set and her outstretched arm only betrayed a hint of nerves. She felt ready for the invisible enemy she assumed was responsible for the disturbance.

A rush of whirling black clouds flew by Hermione before settling at the centre. Two men and a woman in long, black cloaks materialized on the rubble that was once the ceremony platform.

"Give us Potter and no one gets hurt," The shorter man commanded in a deep, malicious voice, pulling up his sleeve to reveal what Hermione assumed must be a dark mark.

"Yah, we're here to finish what the Dark Lord started," Added the second male. With his brown curls and wide set eyes he looked too young and naïve to be a death eater, but his words were clear with conviction.

"We're not doing that! Go away from my wedding!" Ginny howled in return. Her hair had escaped its knot and her lip quivered in resolution. It had been a long time since Hermione had seen the glint of fire that was currently in her friend's eye.

"Then you can all die," The short death eater laughed harshly, brandishing his wand. Across the circle, Hermione saw a tall red head lunge at the death eaters.

"Stupify," George screamed authoritatively. A beam of red light shot from his want, aimed at the short death eater's chest. The death eater nimbly avoided the curse and immediately fired an impediment jinx back at George which he expertly blocked. The two exchanged curses back and forth, none successfully finding their target.

"Implara Mala!" The young one shouted a spell Hermione didn't recognize. A shot of silver burst from his want and went rifling towards George. George turned from his battle with the taller cloaked man at just the moment the silver beam hit him in the midsection. George collapsed in a heap and Hermione's ears were filled with a terrifying scream that made her blood run icy. Heedlessly she ran towards the attackers, intend on causing no shortage of pain.

"Hermione, slow down." Strong arms engulfed her and Angelina spoke quietly. When screaming ceased she realized that she was the one who had created the horrific sound.

"Let me go, Ang, I swear," She yelled venomously.

"Control yourself, you can't beat them like this," The older girl's voice shook and she released her grip on her friend. Hermione looked up, her eyes filled with anger. Harry, Neville, and Percy were in the midst of a duel with the short death eater. Lavender and Luna had engaged the blonde, female death eater in combat. The curly haired youth had turned his attention on Ginny and Ron.

"Get the hell away from them," Hermione cried, her feet finding the ground, she charged at the curly haired death eater, followed closely by Angelina.

"Expelliarmus!" She shouted, aiming for the younger death eater. Her rage was such that she wanted to use a more violent spell, but she knew she couldn't surrender to such hatred. The young death eater flicked away her spell with his want and narrowly avoided a curse that Angelina had sent over Hermione's shoulder. With a cruel laugh, he turned away from Ron and Ginny and focused on Hermione. She continued her assault, firing a variety of stunning spells and jinxes while doing her best to avoid or block his returned curses. One of his spells bypassed her defences, but she didn't even notice when it bounced off her shoulder; she was too intent on trouncing her assailant. Her voice grew stronger as she drew closer to the death eater. In short time, it became apparent that he was not a match for her; she hit him soundly with a body-bind curse. He stiffened and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

"Ron, Ginny, deal with him!" Hermione shouted to her companions who stepped in to ensure the young man would be captured. Her mind swelled with horrific ideas about George's condition. She had to find him.

"George!" Her voice was shrill and she scampered in the direction of where he was lying, barely registering that Harry, Percy, and Neville had bested the older death eater, leaving their attacker tied and writhing on the grass. Her now-bare feet pounded the lawn as she ran to George. She passed Lavender and Luna, who had immobilized the blonde. Sliding into the grass with little regard for her dress, she crouched next to the heap of George. Aggressively pushing aside Fred who was hunched over his twin's unconscious body, she cradled George's damp head in her lap.

"George," Hermione muttered, hoping feverously that he was alive. Deftly, she discarded his tie. Her fingers flew to his collar and ripped open the buttons, exposing his neck. Furiously, she ran her hands along his throat, begging to find a pulse. Intent on feeling around George's skin, she wasn't even aware when her eyesight fogged. A dizzying fog took over her head and, without warning, she fainted into the grass. Her world had gone black.

_Author's Note: Don't hate me! I'm going to update as soon as I can – working on the next chapter. Expect an update later today or tomorrow. Still not mine. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Tense times at St. Mungo's **

_Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry for the cliffhanger – I had to have some adventure happen at some point. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. [Not mine] _

Hermione awoke suddenly, unaware of her surroundings. The narrow bed and pressed, sanitized sheets were unfamiliar. She studied the whitewashed wall in front of her, desperate to figure out her whereabouts.

"Hermione? Are you up?" A soft whisper echoed from behind her. Hermione swiftly rolled over and stared into the face of a friend.

"Ginny….what's happening…where are we?"

"Hermione, you're at St. Mungo's."

Hermione bolted up in shock. Brutal images came flashing back, most of them of George's crumpled body.

"G-George," – She sputtered – "Is he ok, I have to see him, Ginny." Before Ginny could respond, Hermione's imagination took her to the worst comprehendible place and she braced herself, certain of the bad news her friend was about to deliver.

"He's ok. He's in the next room over. I'll call the nurse to see if you can go over there." Ginny tapped her want on a red button-like object on a table beside Hermione's bed. Momentarily the girls were joined by a short witch in a white smock.

"What is it Mrs. Potter? Oh! Miss. Granger, it's good to see your resting potions have worn off." The nurse spoke with a lilt and a shake of her blonde bob.

"Hermione wants to know if she can see George." Ginny informed her.

"Of course, sweetie." The nurse responded to Ginny with an agreeable smile. Helping Hermione out of bed, the two women steadied the dazed witch. Hermione timidly tested her wobbling legs, realizing that they were sturdy enough to stand on. She sent her focus to the rest of her body, hoping she wouldn't notice anything out of sorts. Everything seemed alright.

"What's wrong with me?" Hermione warily asked the nurse after she had introduced herself as Nurse Dottie, knowing that the answer could be awful.

"Nothing much, dear. You got hit by a nasty stunning spell and so we were just keeping you here for observation. The sleeping potion just helped regulate everything. Now that the effects of it are worn off, you should be fine. We'll run some tests in a bit. Doctor Rogers isn't worried." Nurse Dottie's explanation brought a relieved breath from Hermione. Her windpipe choked up again, however, when she thought about George.

"And George?" Hermione's voice was faint.

"George? Oh, the red headed chap you were brought in with. I'm not sure…"

"George is doing well," Ginny interrupted the nurse. Hermione was worriedly thought that she caught a troubling look in her friend's face, despite the proclamation of hopeful news.

Walking between Ginny and Nurse Dottie, Hermione entered an identical white, scarce room. Fred, Mrs. Weasley, and Ron were sitting around a bed. They looked up from their conversation at the sound of the new arrivals.

"Hey, Hermione!"

"Hello dear,"

"How you doing, Mione?"

Hermione ignored the pleasant welcomes and strode to the bed. George was asleep on it, his hands grasped on his chest, a serene look on his face.

"George," She murmured and ran a hand through his hair. Moving her hand to his cheeks, she felt warmth. She noted that his chest was heaving up and down; George was breathing. "Is he ok?"

"Oh yah, George is resilient. Aren't you bud," Fred smiled at his prone twin.

"So he's ok?" Hermione reiterated.

"Yes dear, gave us all a scare, but he's going to pull through," Mrs. Weasley said gently.

"Can someone get me a chair?" Hermione disregarded the woman's kind words, her gaze remaining on George's peaceful face. Fred summoned a seat from across the room. A grey, metal fold up settled itself next to Hermione and she collapsed into it. She took George's hand and grasped it in both of hers; it was heavy, but not cold. Her eyes prickled with tears at the sight of the comatose wizard and her breathing became laboured. There was a slight knock at the door and Hermione glanced up to see a bird-like woman with sleek, black hair enter the room. She was wearing professional looking white robes and carrying a stack of parchment. The woman's stone faced expression changed to one of exasperation at the sight of Hermione.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing out of your bed? You haven't been cleared yet." She exclaimed, her voice pointed and cold.

"Sorry Doctor Roberts, I gave her permission to come here," Nurse Dottie said regretfully, a look of embarrassment passing her face.

"Ahh Dottie…" Doctor Rogers jotted something onto one of her parchments, but she didn't make Hermione leave George's bedside. Hermione was grateful for that; she wouldn't have left without putting up a heated argument. She stroked George's hand tenderly; worry emanated from her golden brown eyes as she stared at the abnormally still red-head.

"What's wrong with him?" Her voice was tense with concern. Doctor Rogers riffled through her parchment, setting the relevant page on the top of the stack.

"Well, he got hit by a very dangerous spell." The doctor's tone was brisk and professional, but she didn't speak unkindly. "The basic operation of the curse is to infect the recipient from the inside. Essentially, if untreated, it will cause one's innards to rot. It can be quite deadly." Hermione thought the woman sounded unnecessarily clinical given that George and his loved ones were right there, enduring the aftereffects of the curse. "Mr. Weasley is very lucky that he received care so quickly. He'll recover shortly and shouldn't face any consequences from the attack."

"Why is he unconscious," Hermione breathed. Doctor Robert's words scarcely registered in her mind as her attention was fully devoted to George.

"We've administered a sleeping potion to Mr. Weasley. Inducing a state of sub-consciousness in patients better enables the healing potions to take effect." Rogers addressed Hermione as one might speak to a child. Hermione didn't bother to inform the doctor that she had studied them for her NEWTS or to recite the seven common usages of such potions. Doctor Rogers continued in the same patronizing tone: "The healing potions are working. We should be able to wake Mr. Weasley soon."

Hermione didn't respond. She remained still, staring at George's eyelids, ardently hoping that they would snap open and bring her gaze into contact with his brilliant blue lenses.

-o-O-o-

"Hermione," A gentle voice woke her. She blinked her eyes to the bright room, realizing that she had fallen asleep in her chair, hunched over George's bed.

"Hi Harry,"

"How are you doing?" Harry spoke sympathetically and his magnetic green eyes gleamed with care for his friend. He claimed a chair next to Hermione's pulled her against his chest for a deep hug.

"I'm so worried, Harry," Hermione said just audibly.

"I know, Mione. But you have to believe the doctors that he's going to be ok."

"He doesn't look ok," Hermione whimpered and burrowed into Harry's grasp, finding some relief in his embrace. They sat quietly for a moment before being joined by Ginny and Ron.

"Here you are, Mione," Ginny handed her a cup of coffee. Hermione took a gratifying sip, the warmness drifting to her core, the caffeine easing the fog in her head.

"Hermione, have you left this spot since yesterday?" Ginny asked with concern.

"Obviously,"

"Getting up to go to the washroom doesn't count."

"Then no," Hermione admitted. The rest of the Weasley family had been in and out of George's room, particularly Fred, but she had continued to be a constant present beside him since she had left her own hospital bed. Doctor Rogers repeatedly came to monitor George's progress. During one instance she ran some tests on Hermione and deemed her clear to leave her own room, allowing her to stay with George.

"Any change?" Ginny continued her question, gazing fondly at her sleeping brother.

"No…Gin, I-I, I just…" Hermione faltered.

"Hermione, the doctors say he's fine, don't worry too much, ok,"

"How's everyone else doing?" Hermione asked, without acknowledging the other girl's attempts at comforting her, finally conscientious of the fact that she hadn't yet sought updates on the rest of the wedding crowd.

"Everyone is fine. No one else got hit with anything. Only you and George ended up here," Harry interjected, bringing Hermione up to date.

"And do we know anything about the attackers?" Hermione questioned.

"The older death eater was Jugson," Harry responded, reciting what he knew. Hermione nodded, realizing that she recognized the shorter man from the fight at the Department of Mysteries. Harry continued: "I guess he managed to escape after the Hogwarts battle. The woman was Avery's wife. We haven't been able to identify the other yet. We think maybe he had been in another country recruiting for Voldemort." Harry gulped; clearly, he had believed that he had seen the end of death eaters. Harry, Ginny, and Ron began informing Hermione of the events following the wedding in rapid succession.

"You got hit by a nasty stunner, Hermione,"

"Square on your shoulder,"

"I can't believe you fought through it,"

"Such a champ,"

"You were brilliant,"

"The guy didn't stand a chance."

"I don't really know how they expected to achieve anything. There were so few of them and so many of us," Harry spoke contemplatively. "Kingsley wonders if they were just trying to make a statement, or send a message. Maybe they just needed to assert themselves since they've got nothing left," Harry wondered aloud.

"They must have seen our wedding announcement in the Prophet," Ginny added.

Hermione listened to her friends, trying not to be overwhelmed by her worries for George. Ron and Harry started to discuss speculations about how Kingsley would deal with the captured death eaters; Hermione drifted between listening and not. She looked at George but saw, once again, that his condition was unchanged, and directed her attention to her ring. Looking at the diamonds on her finger, she couldn't help but remember the day by the lake and smiled despite her anxious state.

Absentmindedly, she fiddled with her ring, spinning it around her finger until it came off into her hand. She cradled the ring, liking the weight of it in her palm. She studied the trinket, admiring it's brilliance until something about the engraving inside the band caught her attention. Where there previously had been three words, a fourth word now joined the others. Delicately etched into the gold in identical italics was the new word: amor. Hermione stared at it quizzically; she hadn't removed the ring from her finger since George had placed it there. She wondered what the word meant and why it had appeared on her ring.

"Hermione, do you want to go get some fresh air or something? We can keep watch of George." Harry said kindly, staring at her intently. "You look like you need to get out of this room."

"I, er, I suppose that's not a bad idea," Hermione didn't relish leaving George, but knew she had a task to complete.

-o-O-o-

Hermione left St. Mungo's and immediately made her way to a large, spiral shaped, cement building. She smiled up at the familiar pillars and countless windows of the tall, foreboding structure and made her way inside.

"Hey Mrs. MacArthur," She greeted the friendly librarian who had helped her on countless occasions find desired books and articles. Without otherwise hesitating, Hermione climbed the stairs to the fourth floor where she knew that books and references on languages were kept. With little difficulty, she located a Latin dictionary. Lugging the heavy, deep red, bound book she settled into a high-backed chair, cradling the text in her lap. She opened the book to the "A" section and quickly bypassed all the words that preceded amor.

"A-m-a, a-m-e, a-m-i," Hermione listed while thumbing through the anthology. "Yes! A-m-o. A-m-o-b…" She flipped the page and scanned to the bottom until her gaze landed on a-m-o-r.

"Amor," Hermione traced with her finger to the definition and read it out loud to the emptiness: "Love."

Hermione clapped the book closed. She stared at the embossed cover, her mind working rapidly. Her thoughts immediately turned to George: the sight of his body crumbled in the Weasley's yard, the way he kissed her in the park, by the lake, in his room, the tranquility she felt while working with him, the tenderness he held her with while dancing, the way his peaceful face looked while he was unconscious in the hospital. She tried to focus only on the feelings she had for him. She knew she was incredibly fond of him and that their attraction was intense, but suddenly, she was aware of a new emotion:

"Sweet Merlin" – the thought hit her with a jolt, causing her to sit up straighter – "I'm in love with George."

Hermione placed the dictionary on a small, round table in front of her, hoping that the librarians wouldn't mind having to put it back to its place. To the confusion of the librarian, she galloped out of the library and into the street, maintaining her pace towards St. Mungo's. Her mind was a whirl; all she knew was that she had to return to George.

"How have I not realized this until now," She chided herself while she ran. She couldn't remember if the warning signs had been in place. Conjuring up images of George's face, she tried to pinpoint the exact instance when her like had turned to love, but she could not. Somehow her ring had known before her. Hermione remembered something she had read once which suggested that wedding rings were worn on the particular finger because of its direct connection to the heart through a central artery and wondered if that's how the ring came to have access for her sentiments. As narrowed the distance to the hospital her mind was crowded by such contemplations. The one thought she tried not to entertain was the possibility that George didn't share her feelings; she only focused on her run and her only concern was returning to his bedside.

Hermione charged through the double glass doors and into St. Mungo's. The amount of time it took to properly sign in seemed excruciating. She quickly finished writing and tossed down the quill before the receptionist had time to wish her a good day. Taking steps two-by-two, she hurried up the flights of stairs and burst into George's room.

"George I-I…you're up!" She stuttered. The room was crowded with Weasleys but Hermione's eyes only went to the centre, focusing on the bed. The grinning red-head was sitting up in bed, chatting with his family. "What-when…you're ok?" She couldn't quite comprehend how the previously comatose George had recovered so quickly and was now so lively.

"Oh Miss Granger, lovely," Doctor Roberts, looked up from her parchment, evidently noticing that the brunette had entered the room. The doctor turned her attention to George: "How are you doing, Mr. Weasley?"

"I'm just spiffy," – George laughed and motioned to Hermione – "Get over here, Mione." Hermione pushed through Weasley's to the edge of the bed. Leaning over awkwardly, she met George's hug.

"When did you get ok?" She asked feebly, embarrassed by the poor grammar once the question left her mouth. Her run had left her winded and she struggled to regain rhythmic breathing. Neither grammar nor breathing was a central concern, however; Hermione was happy to be in George's arms.

"We let George out of his sub-conscious state once you left, Miss Granger," Doctor Roberts informed her. "The procedure can cause some pain to the patient. It can be jarring upon regaining consciousness and well, you're quite intense and I wanted to perform it while you weren't here." Hermione cast a brief, not-quite-friendly look at the doctor.

"I'm glad you're fine, George," She turned her attention back to the red-head, longing to tell him of her discovery, but knowing that there in the hospital room amidst his family was neither the time nor the place.

"I'm glad you're fine too, Hermione," George took her hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze, his expression one of fondness.

-o-O-o-

After a few quick tests and some paperwork, the group made their way back to the Burrow. Everyone stayed well into the evening and Hermione found herself in the living room with the younger Weasley's as the day faded.

"Ginny! I just realized, your wedding got completely ruined," Hermione gasped, interrupting her own conversation with Ginny to utter the incurrence.

"I suppose so," – Ginny speculated – "But it doesn't really matter. I mean, I got what I wanted. Being with Harry is what's important to me. And it's not like I didn't know that being married to Harry would be an adventure." The red head laughed and smiled lovingly at her husband across the room where he was engaged in a game of exploding snap with Ron and the twins. Hermione surveyed the room, taking in the boys' game and Lavender and Angelina engrossed in conversation on the couch. It was a pleasant change from the stark whiteness of St. Mungo's.

Soon all the couples trickled out and the room was empty except for Hermione and George. She perched nimbly on the edge of the couch suddenly uncomfortable with her need to acknowledge her feelings for George.

"So, ah," She lamely offered. On the oversized chair, George leaned forward, looking relaxed and handsome.

"We're alone," He grinned at the obvious.

"That…we are."

"Mind if I join you?" George left the chair and strode to the couch, plopping down next to Hermione.

"So, ah," She repeated, cursing her inarticulate phrasing.

"Hey Hermione?"

"Yes, George,"

"I-I…I could have died." George's voice quavered, but his hand was steady on Hermione's knee and his gaze didn't break from hers.

"George, don't. We don't have to….you were apparently never in real danger." Hermione mustered the most compassionate tone she could, unwilling to share her own earlier anxiety.

"That's not entirely true," His blue eyes shone with the intenseness that Hermione found so attractive. "Hermione, what I mean to say…well, I could have died. You could have died… I could have died without-without…" He licked his lips quickly and drew a deep inhale. Wrapping his arms around Hermione he pulled her into his chest. "When we were attacked, I realized that I could have died without telling you that I love you." George let out the air which had been filling his lungs and broke their eye contact, awkwardly turning to stare at his feet.

"George,"

"No, I have to tell you this. When I saw that we were being attacked, I remembered that day by the lake when I told you that I couldn't tell you that I loved you. And then I realized I did love you and I felt like the world's biggest git because I told you I didn't. And now we're ok and I'm not going to go any longer without you knowing that I love you. I'm completely in love with you. And here I am totally in love with you and you're probably thinking I'm this numpty the Ministry has fostered upon you –"

"George,"

"And I don't expect you to feel the same –"

"George–"

"And I understand if you don't –"

"George, listen,"

"And if you–"

"George! Pay attention, I have something to say" – Hermione clapped her palm on the red head's leg, finally silencing his bumbling stream of chatter. "I love you too. I'm in love with you. I'm terribly in love with you." She spoke earnestly. George returned his gaze to her and they regained eye contact.

"Really?"

"Truly." Hermione bit her lip and nodded with a fierce intentionality.

"That's just" – George seemed flabbergasted; his eyes were wide but a hint of a smile played on his face. "That's just bloody fantastic." He scoped Hermione onto his lap and the two embraced, alternating between kisses and giggles. Hermione realized she was where she belonged.

_Author's Note: Only one more chapter and then an epilogue. Thanks again to everyone who is reading! [Not mine, JK's] _


	17. Chapter 17

**Hermione and George's Wedding **

_Author's Note: This is cheesy. Sorry it took so long to update, I was having trouble writing this. And not mine _

With her breath held and the hairs on her forearms standing slightly, Hermione gulped nervously and entered the Weasley's living room. Ginny, Angelina, Luna, and Lavender were waiting in anticipation in matching periwinkle-blue dresses.

"Oh Hermione," Ginny sighed. "You look so perfect." In unison, the other girls agreed with the red head, gathering around Hermione and convincing her to spin so they could have a closer look at her bridal dress.

"Really? You don't think it's too much or too lacy?" Hermione asked cautiously, but her bridesmaids quickly distilled any such qualms. Their compliments were so rushed and frenzied that Hermione couldn't figure out who was saying what.

"No, it's amazing,"

"You look incredible,"

"I just love it,"

"It's really perfect for you,"

"You look like such a bride,"

Hermione glanced down at the gown. It was a slight off-white and covered in an embossed leaf-like pattern that provided the dress some texture. The strapless neckline was alluring but modest, high enough cut to cover everything but cut in a slightly wavering line to provide interests. The dress fit her hips snuggly before flaring out at her knees to form a mermaid-like silhouette. The skirt culminated in a small train and the hem was finished in a delicate scalloped pattern. Ginny had convinced her to tie the look together with a wide sash in magenta ribbon, tucking the ends into the ribbon to create a snug belt. The dress was held together by a series of many, tiny white buttons which ran up Hermione's back. It was a simple gown, but Hermione loved it. There were no unnecessary embellishments or adornments but, in it, she felt regal and glamorous. The dress wasn't as flashy as Angelina's, as whimsical as Ginny's, or as extravagant as Lavender's, but it was perfectly Hermione. Her chin naturally rose in the dress and she found her shoulders were sitting further back than normal. She and Ginny had visited several stores with little luck, but when she had tried on the particular dress, she knew it was meant to be hers.

After Angelina styled her hair, Hermione felt eager to begin the ceremony. Angelina's deft hands had transformed Hermione's normal mess of busy curls into soft ringlets. Her golden brown hair hung silkily down her back, curling only as necessary, framing her face without diverting attention from her features. Ginny completed her look with a subtle application of makeup, the pale pinks accenting the gold in Hermione's eyes. On her head, Mrs. Weasley's antique veil was affixed to her crown with a heavy, porcelain barrette. The flimsy fabric of the veil floated down her back, brushing her shoulders, just reaching her wrists. Mrs. Weasley had asked her to wear the piece several days prior. The older woman had approached her with such sweetness and nervousness that Hermione had to fight to contain tears. As much as she adored her dress, Hermione thought she might actually prefer the veil; the way it connected her to past Weasley brides was not lost on her and every time it skimmed her skin, Hermione remembered that she entering into a family, not just a marriage. Hermione smiled at her friends nodding that she was prepared, knowing that the ceremony was set up and the guests would be waiting.

"Wait!" – Ginny cried as they were about to walk out in formation – "Do you have your something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?"

"My what?"

"It's tradition, for luck. You need one of each."

"Is it important?" Hermione questioned innocently; her friends chucked at her naivety.

"Of course it is,"

"It's for luck,"

"Why would everyone do it if it wasn't?"

Hermione quickly considered her outfit, wanting to appease her bridesmaids. "Well, I have my dress – that's new. My veil is old" – Hermione motioned to the antique veil. "Let's think, something blue…." Hermione remembered the blue ribbon and garter Lavender had handed her. "And Lav, you gave me something blue…I guess all I'm missing is something borrowed."

"Oh Hermione, I can't believe we forgot to get you something borrowed," Ginny looked disappointed in herself. The rest of the bridesmaids quickly began to search their selves, seeing if they had anything to lend Hermione.

"Guys, it's alright" – Hermione tried to interject – "The veil isn't mine. It can be my something borrowed."

"Hermione, don't be mental. You're something old can't also be your something borrowed."

"That would never work,"

"Don't be ridiculous,"

Hermione wondered if her bridesmaids were overreacting; she didn't think she necessarily had to abide by silly traditions, but the girls' concerns regarding the perfection of details were touching and she didn't particularly fancy entering into marriage with any hint of bad luck. Amidst the confusion, Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"Everything ready? We're waiting for you outside."

"No mum, it's not quite, we haven't a something borrowed for Hermione," Ginny's voice contain a greater level of frustration than Hermione thought necessary, but she smiled fondly at the girl nevertheless.

"Oh no, that will never do," Mrs. Weasley's tone echoed that of her daughter's. "How could no one have thought to get something for Hermione's something borrowed?

"I don't know, mum. I was sure we had everything in order. Anyway, I would have thought someone would remember to borrow something to Hermione."

"No, this won't do." Mrs. Weasley repeated the sentiment that was troubling her. Straightening her hunter green dress, she left the room, muttering as she exited.

"Where's she going?"

"That was strange,"

"She's coming back right?"

"Do we wait for her?"

"I guess we'll just wait for her?"

The girls weren't entirely sure how to respond to Mrs. Weasley's sudden disappearance and even though they were aware that the guests were outside waiting for them, they remained in the living room until the older woman returned. Mrs. Weasley bustled back into the room carrying a flat, blue velvet box, while the bridesmaids were still exchanging confused comments.

"Here Hermione, I have something borrowed for you," She approached the girl with a slight hesitation in her step and opened the blue box. On pink satin lining, lay a delicate strand of irregularly shaped pearls. "It's not much Hermione, it was a gift from Arthur when we were first married and the pearls are quite low grade, but I love it and would love it if you would wear it today." Molly spoke quickly and shyly, glancing up at Hermione with expectation in her eyes.

"Oh, Molly, er. Mrs. Weasley, I would just love to." Hermione's voice was gentle as her speaking ability was impeded by a significant lump in her throat. Hermione stooped so Mrs. Weasley could tie a tiny bow in the white ribbon that held the necklace together. It was just large enough to encircle her neck. The pearls felt slightly cold against her bare skin but a quick look in the handheld mirror Ginny offered her told her that the accessory was the ideal completion for her wedding look. "Oh, Mrs. Weasley, this is just perfect." Hermione stood tall again and met the woman's outstretched arms in a firm hug. She felt such gratitude towards her adopted mother.

"Oi, you two, time to go. Hermione you can't ruin your makeup," Ginny interrupted her moment with Mrs. Weasley to divert Hermione back to the presence. The girls entered the Weasley's yard to prepare to walk down the aisle. Mrs. Weasley left them to join Mr. Weasley on the benches and Harry joined them. Given the absence of her parents, Hermione had asked Harry to give her away.

"Ready for this Hermione?" Harry asked her while her friends began to make their way down the aisle.

"I think so," Hermione paused slightly. She was excited about her relationship with George. They were still in the honeymoon phase where everything was handholding and stealing kisses, but it didn't quite feel like the proper timeline for a wedding. The fact that she was approaching the aisle in a large white dress, prepared to exchange sacred vows with him seemed a little surreal. She gulped determinedly, "You know what Harry, I think I am. I actually think I might be a little, I know this sounds weird, but a little excited."

"Yah?"

"Yah,"

"Hermione, that's just so great," Harry's features settled into a relaxed expression. "I've been worried about you. This is a big deal for you,"

"I know,"

"I just want you to be happy."

"I know that too,"

"I think George could make you really happy," Harry took Hermione's hand in his and gave it a brotherly squeeze.

"He will, Harry,"

The guitar music abruptly changed from the music that was to play for the bridesmaids to the song Hermione had chosen for her walk down the aisle.

"Well, shall we?" Harry grinned at Hermione and volunteered the crook of his arm. Hermione returned his smile and gratefully accepted his offer. As she delicately stepped through the grass, she leaned on Harry, requiring his support. Her heart beat at an accelerated pace and her legs seemed as if they were not operating at full capacity. Her gratitude for Harry by her side was immense. There was so much in her life she wouldn't have been able to accomplish without him and this was one of those instances.

The Weasley's backyard looked gorgeous. The benches were set up in a semi-circle. A large, white arch was erected in the middle on the grass; given its fate at Harry's wedding, they had decided to forgo the raised platform. Blue, violet, and pink adorned the arch. Upon closer inspection one would see that the colourful objects were dozens of Pygmy Puffs perched on the arch. The ceremony area was lined with brilliant, colourful flowers, causing the Weasley's backyard to smell like peonies and lilacs.

As she continued to stride down the walkway created by her standing loved ones she noticed many familiar faces in attendance. Professor McGonagall had made the trip to the Burrow to see one of her favourite students join in union with one of her not-quite-favourites. Former classmates – Neville, Dean, Seamus, Padma and Pavarti – were there; to Hermione's surprise they had all eagerly accepted the invitation, even though she hadn't been particularly close to all of them at Hogwarts. George's past Quidditch teammates were there in support and, Hermione assumed, to enjoy the subsequent party. Surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army grinned proudly at her and Harry as they completed their walk. Familiar faces in the wizard community made up the rest of the attendance.

Hermione silently took in all the faces before directing her gaze to the front of the ceremony. Her bridesmaids were lined up on one side of the lawn, standing in descending order of height, looking appropriately summery in their identical blue sundresses. George's groomsmen were standing tall in their blue shirts and magenta ties. To reflect the informality of the ceremony and the humidity of the August day, George's brothers and Lee were not wearing jackets. Hermione found amusement in the chosen colour scheme; it was more girly than her normal tastes, but it coincided brilliantly with the day. The sight of George gave reason for Hermione to quickly draw a sharp intake of breath.

"I'm marrying a stunning, stunning man," She thought, trying to disguise the naughty smile playing at her lips. George managed to make the blue and magenta combination look casual and effortless. His shirt hung from his broad shoulders in such a way to make the garment look more fine and well-tailored than it deserved. The tie's knot was off-centred, but George's relaxed posture made it look intentional. His shaggy red hair had the look of being recently cut and wasn't as tousled as normal. Hermione found a degree of adorableness in the fact that he had specifically gotten his hair done for their wedding. Despite the self-assuredness of George's stance, a nervous smile adorned his face. His brilliant blue eyes betrayed no reservations however; they shone brighter than that to which Hermione was accustomed. As each step brought her closer to George, Hermione felt her lingering uncertainties about their union fade.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," George whispered into Hermione's ear the moment she joined him in front of the crowd.

"You two," She mouthed back. The pair turned to face each other and Hermione accepted both of George's hands in hers. She was aware of the many eyes upon them, but her focus was for George alone. The joy she noticed in George's eyes was the same that she felt. Percy, who was officiating their wedding on behalf of the Ministry, cleared his throat importantly.

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the blessed union of George Weasley and Hermione Granger," Percy proclaimed eloquently. He continued in an even more pretentious tone: "Marriage is what brings–"

Percy was unable to complete his homily, however, because he was interrupted by the disturbance of a loud pop.

"Not again," Hermione groaned audibly. Fortunately, she immediately knew that this time they were not under attack; the air lacked the tinge evil it had contained last time. The smoke created by the pop evaporated and Hermione noticed a tiny, bald man standing between her and George. He was wearing a fitted, cherry-red, three piece suit and a warm, if embarrassed, smile.

"Hello," – the man addressed the crowd" – "I am Randal Everington. Deputy Assistant to the Minister of Department of Interpersonal Witch and Wizard Relations,"

"Oh hello Mr. Everington, How are you today?" Percy attempted to exchange pleasantries with the intruder. The man looked up from the parchment he was holding.

"Ah yes, lovely Weasley. As I was saying, I am here as representative of the Department of Interpersonal Witch and Wizard Relations. I have come with an announcement regarding Ministerial Decree 7391, _An Act Pertaining to Unmarried Witches and Wizards under the Purview of the United Kingdom Chapter of the Ministry of Magic._"

"What's going on? Why are you interrupting my wedding?" George snapped accusatorily.

"Calm down, let me make my announcement." Mr. Everington once again attempted to command attention of the crowd; he needn't try too hard, everyone was transfixed as to why the small man had disrupted the ceremony. He cleared his throat and began again in an authoritarian tone: "This morning, in an expedited process the Department of Interpersonal Witch and Wizard Relations repealed Ministerial Decree 7391. Subsequently, couples falling under the purview of Ministerial Decree 7391 are no longer bound by the confines of that particular law."

"What does that mean?" George's tone hadn't changed; he still sounded short with the man and frustrated at the interruption.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, it means you and Miss Granger are no longer obliged to complete this ceremony. Good day, every one." Almost no sooner had he gotten to the Weasley's backyard, Randal Everington was gone leaving the ceremony in the midst of confusion.

"Kingsley, did you know about this?" Harry called from his spot next to Ron, turning to scan the crowd of faces for the Minister of Magic.

"Of course I did," Kingsley's deep voice called from the back of the benches. "Well, I knew the law was in the process of being repealed. I did not realize that it was this far along."

Harry and Kingsley began a back and forth conversation with disregard to the fact that dozens of other people were overhearing what they had to say.

"Why did the Ministry get rid of the law so soon after it was put in place?" Harry continued his questioning.

"Well, you see, it was enacted largely to stop the actions of a few. After your wedding the main perpetrators were apprehended. We were able to use the three you caught to lead us to the rest. As such, the marital law is no longer required."

"So the law only existed in the first place for the sake of a handful of people?" Harry spoke courteously, but there was a hint of resentment in his tone. "You know you affected many lives?"

"We are aware,"

"And you don't think that your actions were heavy handed and probably not even that effective?" Harry spoke louder and decidedly less friendly. "Hermione and George weren't even dating three months ago and now they're here getting married because of the Ministry."

"Harry, we know. It wasn't ideal," – The normally reserved and proud Kingsley sounded sheepish – "But Harry, we just got out of a devastating war. We had to take all means available to ensure nothing of the sort happened again."

Harry and Kingsley continued their debate but Hermione had stopped listening. Her mind was a mess of competing thoughts and concerns. Without the Ministry's law, she and George no longer had to get married. Hermione squeezed George's hand that was still in hers to get his attention. Their eyes met and she did her best to adopt an expression that would convey her need to communicate. George nodded, obviously having received her silent message. He nudged his brother and Fred instantly seemed to understand exactly what his twin was telling him because he did what the Weasley twins do best: create distractions.

Fred reached into his pocket and heaved the contents into the air, releasing bright green powder. The powder floated, suspended momentarily, until it began to spark. The guests lost all interest in Harry and Kingley's argument or in the wedding itself; everyone was fixated on what Fred had created. The Weasley twins' fireworks had achieved the status of legend and no one wanted to miss out on a guaranteed spectacle. Fred did not disappoint. The wedding party was soon surrounded in flashes and whirls of blues, greens, reds, violets, yellows, and silvers. They seemed so close to Hermione that she thought she would surely be scalded, but the fireworks burned cold. Smoke filled the backyard but it didn't hinder Hermione's breathing or cause her eyes to water. Instead, it created the privacy she and George required.

"George, what are we going to do? I don't know what to make of this now that this law is gone." Hermione raced her question, fumbling to articulate her words, worried about how George was processing the news. George placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed at her intently. erm

"Hermione, I know you're no longer under an obligation, but would you still want to marry me?" George's expression was one of anticipation, but Hermione couldn't tell if he was merely questioning or if he was truly asking. She breathed deeply and spoke honestly.

"I don't want to not marry you," Hermione's response was quiet in its contemplation. She wrinkled her nose after the words left her mouth at the confusion created by the double negative in her statement. "What I wanted to say is that I don't want to leave here today without being married to you."

A smile reverberated on George's face, lighting up all his features.

"That is such a relief" – The look playing across his features confirmed the statement – "I'm just desperate to marry you."

"Really?"

"You have no idea."

"You don't want to just forget about this whole thing?"

"No, I want to marry you,"

"I-I, I'm very glad to hear that George Weasley." Hermione knew she could have said something more romantic or more memorable, but she didn't mind. To her, the moment was perfect. George embraced her as the fireworks subsided, exposing the couple to the eyes of the gathered. With Hermione still in his arms, George addressed their friends and family. He spoke loudly, his voice tinged with happiness.

"Well, that was just lovely. I hope everyone enjoyed my brother's artistry. Fred, if you don't mind, we have a wedding to finish. Percy: the honours." George smiled at the guests, then his twin, then his older brother, flourishing his hand to indicate that the ceremony should be commenced. Percy nodded briskly and, adopting his official voice, he once again recited the words necessary for nuptials.

-o-O-o-

For Hermione, the remainder of her wedding was one joyous blur. She figured she would have Ginny fill her in on particular details at a later date and just enjoy being lost in the moment. Certain snippets, however, did stand out and Hermione was sure she'd cherish those memories forever. Their vows were such a moment, how she had stumbled over the Latin pronunciations and the way George's loving eyes remained on her throughout.

"Fovere et ego amoris," – she had repeated after Percy, giggling through the unfamiliarity of the words – "Fovere et ego amoris." Her eyes glazed over with dampness while George reiterated the vows to her. Percy had announced them as husband and wife and George had dipped her low and placed a long, lingering kiss on her lips. The cheers and whistles of their family and friends had gone barely detected; Hermione was too engrossed in the kiss to notice.

They had danced well into the night. The smooth surface in the Weasley's backyard filled with guests. Hermione's former Gryffindor classmates had been eager to sustain the revelry and had hounded Lee into playing upbeat songs well past dark. She had spent the entire time in George's arm, dancing slowly with him despite the quick tempo music. Eventually, the music drew to a halt, and people became aware that the party was winding down. Hermione and George bade polite goodbyes to all who had come to witness the ceremony. Tenderly, George helped her onto the back of his broom as they continued waving to their guests.

"Well, Wifey," – He whispered to her – "What do you say to taking off?" Hermione smiled at him, eager to begin their life together.

"Sure thing, Hubby, let's get the hell out of here." Ensuring that her skirt was tucked securely under her legs, she wrapped her arms tightly around George's waist. With a swift kick, they shot into the air, continuing their trajectory until the Burrow was a tiny spot in the distance.

_Author's Note: Ahh…only an epilogue left. I can't believe it. Did my best to tie the "Let's get the hell out of here," thing back in. I should have the epilogue posted shortly. _


	18. Chapter 18

**Epilogue **

Hermione stared down at the two infants in her arms. Even after six months, the twins, Emily and Lucy, never failed to amaze her. They looked perfect, asleep in her arms, their heads already covered with soft red fuzz that Hermione was certain would grow into red curls: the colour of their father's the structure of their mother's.

"Daddy will be home soon," She whispered aloud, to herself rather than her daughters. A quick glance at her clock – a wedding gift from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley – indicated that George had just left his joke shop. As Emily and Lucy slept, Hermione's mind drifted; she was grateful to actually have a moment to herself, raising twins didn't provide for much leisure time. She thought back to how supportive George had been when was accepted to a prestigious Master's program at a wizarding school in Italy. He decided to open a satellite location of the Weasley's joke in Venice in order to be near her. The Weasley twins' brand of humor, it had turned out, appealed to the Italians and even after Hermione and George returned to England the location still thrived, to the extent that Fred and George expanded to other parts of Europe.

When Hermione's first book – a treatise on the rights of house elves and other non-human magical beings – had been published no one had been more excited than George. He had spent her entire book launch bragging about how smart his wife was. With each of Hermione's books and papers on similar matters she had gained more and more notoriety in academic circles as an intelligent but controversial figure. Even when some complained about how Hermione was disturbing the status quo, George's support never wavered, as he continually stood by his wife, asserting to naysayers that her ideas were important and relevant. When Hermione and George had announced that they were expecting, the entire family had been overjoyed, particularly Ginny, who was excited that James and Albus would have cousin playmates, and Angelina, who had been pregnant with her and Fred's son, John, at the same time.

Hermione looked up when she heard the unlatching of the door, smiling when her husband strode in to their living room.

"Hello, love," George leaned over and kissed her before scoping up his daughters, one in each arm and landed a soft peck on each of their plump cheeks. Hermione loved seeing George with his daughters. He never turned down an opportunity to play with them or take them to the Burrow to show the girls off to their uncles, aunts, and cousins.

"Look at these two beauties," – George marveled. – "You just know Em is dreaming about the books she's going to read and Luce is coming up with all sorts of pranks to play one day." According to George, Emily was a future bookworm like her mother and Lucy would take after her father's troublemaking ways. Hermione was certain his theory had no salience, but enjoyed humoring him about it nevertheless.

"Well as long as only one of the girls is keen on misbehaving, we're better off than your folks," She gently teased, resting her hands on her husband's shoulder.

"If we're lucky. More likely, they're both going to inherit your smarts and my love of pranks and then we'll be in real trouble." George sounded worried, but there was a decided gleam in his eyes, eager to see the way his girls turned out and possibly excited to find out what kind of mischief they could create.

"Looking forward to spending more time with these two?" Hermione asked; George responded by nodding feverously. The Ministry had asked Hermione to participate in drafting new legislation on treatment of house elves, meaning that she would be quite busy with research and committee meetings for some time. George was planning on taking time off from the shop to compensate. Hermione could tell that he was overjoyed at the prospect of additional time with his daughters.

"I think these two need to get to bed," George whispered, kissing Hermione on her forehead. Carrying both of the sleeping girls, George let the way up the stairs of their house to the room the twins shared. Placing the girls in their cribs, Hermione lovingly tucked the blankets Mrs. Weasley had knitted over her twins: orange for Emily and magenta for Lucy. Wrapping her arms around her husband she gazed fondly at her daughters, knowing that in short time they would have her and George up, with their demands for attention. That didn't bother her though, everything was going so well. George's arm remained around her shoulder as the couple whispered goodnights to their twins and quietly left the room and made their way to their own bed.

_Author's Note: Thanks, thanks, thanks to everyone who read! Any comments and suggestions are much appreciated. If you're interested keep an eye out for my next story. I'm going to start it soon and hopefully get it up in the next little while. It will be another Hermione/George pairing and I think the title will be _Charms, I'm sure. _I think it will be set at Hogwarts ten years after the end of book 7 [after the war, not the epilogue] and would love it if people checked it out once it exits. Add me to Author Alert if interested. Once again: not mine, JK's!_


End file.
